


The Cutting Edge

by Halzbarry



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Cute, Castiel and Meg are BFFs, Figure Skater Castiel, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Ice Hockey Player Dean Winchester, Ice Skating, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Misunderstandings, Past Balthazar/Castiel, Protective Ellen Harvelle, mentions of Sam - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-25 17:09:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14981723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halzbarry/pseuds/Halzbarry
Summary: Castiel Novak has a routine. That routine consists of skating, conditioning, food and sleep, and more skating. He doesn't make time for relationships and that's worked just fine for him. It's part of the reason he and Meg have made it as far as they have in the figure skating world.His usual routine is thrown for a loop when he finds himself having to share his usual ice rink with the Kansas Hunters, and he comes face to face with the team captain and the greenest eyes Castiel has ever seen.Dean Winchester isn't the least bit shy about his attempts to get to know Castiel, and Castiel isn't quite sure why he's finding it so easy to get close to Dean. But maybe, Dean Winchester, local NHL celebrity, will be the one to breakdown the guard that Castiel has had up for so long.





	The Cutting Edge

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based off the amazing fanart by the amazing [Pimmy](http://pimentogirl.tumblr.com) aka Pimentogirl. Show her art some love [Here!](http://%20.tumblr.com)
> 
> The minute I saw her art I knew I had to do a fic for it and I'm so glad I got an opportunity and the fic lives up to the amazing art she's done! Also much thanks to [Teddy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clow/pseuds/clow) and [Icarusinflight](https://candybarrnerd.tumblr.com) for beta-ing my fic for me! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it!

Castiel hates Mondays. Being a professional figure skater, Castiel has subjected himself to a rigorous schedule since he was fifteen. He generally likes to take it easy on weekends, but even then, Sunday is truly his only day off in which he’s not on the ice or working out. On Mondays, the training and skating start all over again.

Today, however, has been a Monday to remember. Somehow, Castiel manages to sleep through his morning alarm, a very loud beeping that sounds promptly at six forty-five every morning, which puts him behind at the gym. Being late to the gym means all of his favorite machines were taken, leaving him only the few ones that are broken down all the way in the back.

Still, he is able to push through his schedule being thrown off, getting the shitty gym equipment, and even through the barista at the coffee shop who somehow manages to get his order entirely wrong. _Coffee should be black and bitter, not filled with all sorts of sugary, death syrups. He’s not Gabriel after all._

The final straw of this horrific Monday, though, is walking into the ice rink that he and Meg have been training in for more than three years now, to see it full of men in gigantic shoulder pads and jerseys skating across every inch of it. He sees the hockey sticks and the goals, and watches as several of them bodycheck each other as they move up and down the rink.

Maybe it’s the highly concentrated syrups in his coffee that have his blood pressure so high, but Castiel feels as if any moment now, every vein in his body is going to come bulging out of his body.

Castiel looks over to see Meg watching enthusiastically from a spot in the middle of the rink, and, with a heavy sigh, he makes his way over.

“Someone looks like hell,” she greets as he drops his bag of skates, clothes, (and other various necessities) in front of him.

“It has been… a very difficult morning.” His words come out more like a growl than anything, but Meg has known better than to take it personally. They’ve been friends for nearly ten years, and skating partners nearly five. She’s seen him at his best, like the past winter Olympics, and his worse, i.e., days like today. “Who are these… _people_ on the rink? Do they not know this is reserved for us every day? And where is Uriel?”

“Lighten up would you, Clarence. We’ve been gifted with the rare opportunity to see the Kansas Hunters in their natural habitat. I mean, look at all these sweaty boys.” Castiel watches but finds nothing appealing about what they’re doing. In fact, he finds the entire sport of hockey barbaric. He’s seen a few games, and to him it’s less about skating or even winning than it is about who can hit who the hardest.

He scoffs as he watches one of the players body checking another into the barrier before a whistle is blown from someone who he assumes is probably the team coach.

“Winchester! Quit bangin’ up your team, damnit!” the short and portly man screams.

The man Castiel assumes he’s screaming at, an average sized man in a number fourteen jersey waves him off and continues on playing.

“See that guy,” Meg starts, pointing to number fourteen. “That’s Dean Winchester.”

Castiel trains his eyes on the man, but it does him little good as he looks just the same as everyone else out on the rink. “I’m sure he is, but that doesn’t answer my question of why they’re on our rink.”

Meg smirks in that devilish way that implies she’s up to no good. “You really don’t have a clue who he is, do you?”

Castiel shrugs. “Should I?”

“Of course, you should. He’s only the hottest thing in the hockey-ice skating world right now.” Castiel makes a face to alert her that he still has no clue who he is and it’s returned with an exasperated eye roll and sigh. “He’s the captain of the Kansas Hunters. He made the men’s Olympic ice-hockey team two years ago when we competed and led the team to place silver. He was even featured on the front cover of Sports Illustrated.”

Meg’s tone implies that Castiel should somehow recognize him from that description, but, the Olympics were a haze at best. Outside of training for his and Meg’s silver medal-winning routine, he only recalls interacting with Meg, their coach, and Balthazar, Castiel’s friend and resident booty call, especially before a competition. And he can’t remember the last time he touched a magazine, much less one featuring a hockey player on the cover. So, he replies with another shrug and slight head tilt.

“Jesus, Clarence. What am I going to do with you?”

As much as he’d like to catch up with Meg, he feels his body getting antsy probably from the lack of skating he should be doing right now. After such a crappy start today, getting out on the ice is a much-needed relief and he won’t let some brutish hockey team stop him.

The coach blows the whistle and some players exit the rink while others skate around aimlessly.

For some reason, Castiel’s eyes are glued to this Dean Winchester, who skates over to the coach and falls straight into conversation. Castiel doesn’t know why, but he knows if he wants answers and his rink back, talking to Dean Winchester and the coach seem to be his best bet since Uriel is still nowhere to be found.

“And where are you going?” Meg inquires as Castiel takes a few steps towards the players.

“I would very much like our rink back, and if Uriel isn’t here to do it, then I’ll do it myself.”

Meg doesn’t try to stop him, but she doesn’t need to. Castiel pauses when Dean Winchester takes his mask off and sandy-brown hair, glistening with sweat and disheveled, falls out.

Castiel swallows, suddenly feeling as if his mouth has gone dry, but he has a job and that’s to get his ice rink back to begin preparation for the competition in two months. He takes a deep breath and steels himself as he continues marching forward towards the two. When he gets close enough the two men look up, and Castiel mouth is a desert now when the greenest eyes he’s ever seen look over to him.

Taking in the entire view of Dean Winchester, Castiel confirms that he is definitely the hottest man he’s ever laid eyes on.

The other man, however, looks old enough to be Dean Winchester’s father, being shorter and older looking than Dean with a full beard and dressed in a worn flannel shirt along with some equally worn jeans and a trucker’s hat.

“This is a closed practice, son. You need something?” the older man questions as Castiel walks up.

“I’m sorry?” Castiel says tilting his head. He’s not sure whether to be confused or offended that he’s the one being questioned. “However, I should be asking you (all) the same question. This rink is reserved Monday through Friday mornings for our weekly training sessions.”

Castiel is speaking to both of them, but he can’t seem to bring himself to look away from Dean Winchester, who seems irritated right now if the way he’s scowling at him is any indication. Castiel would be lying if he doesn’t admit that he feels frozen as green eyes settle on him, curious and perplexed.

The other man seems to have a moment of realization and hums.

“You’re one of the guys Uriel was telling us about, aren’t ya?” the man asks.

Castiel finds himself tilting his head again, something he wonders if he’s going to be doing a lot today.

“I don’t know, but we practice here every day from seven thirty in the morning until one in the afternoon when it opens to the public. Uriel didn’t mention that we would have others here today, so I would like to have our rink back.”

His words come out snippier than he intends, and it clearly doesn’t sit well with the other two, especially Dean Winchester who narrows his eyes suspiciously.

“Hey, alright. Looks like we just got a misunderstanding here,” Dean Winchester interjects.

Before Castiel can counter, he hears footsteps behind him and turns to see Uriel walking towards them. By far, Uriel is not Castiel’s favorite person in the world, what with his gruff and often condescending demeanor, but the man is an ice skating genius and the mastermind behind several of his and Meg’s award-winning pair routines and several of Balthazar and Anna’s solo routines. Uriel also has a lot of pull in the ice skating world which, conveniently, is how Castiel and Meg scored this ice rink here to themselves for four hours a day.

“I see you’re getting acquainted with our guests,” Uriel says without so much as a good morning or hello, which, surprisingly, is typical of Uriel.

“I was inquiring why they are on our rink during our training time,” Castiel rebuffs, finally having an excuse to look away from Dean Winchester.

Uriel grins in that obnoxiously smug manner, and Castiel fully expects some bad news.

“Well, for the sake of speeding things along, Castiel meet Bobby Singer, coach of the Kansas Hunters and Dean Winchester, the team captain. A friend called in a favor and asked us to let the team use our rink while their practice facility undergoes renovations.  So, for the next few months, Mr. Singer, Mr. Winchester, and the entire Kansas Hunters team are going to be sharing the rink with us.”

It takes a lot to surprise Castiel, but Uriel’s explanation manages to do just that.

“You’re not serious,” Castiel says without thinking.

Uriel rolls his eyes, body language signaling that he’s already over this conversation.

“Do I look like I’m joking? It’s only for three months, Castiel. They’ll be out before you know it. Besides, it’ll give you and Margaret an opportunity to sleep-in, or, do your exercises somewhere besides here. Now, I suggest you spend less time worrying about a hockey team and spend this time focusing on preparing for our next competition. Mr. Singer, would you join me so we can discuss some business?”

Uriel doesn’t wait for Bobby’s reply and turns to leave back to wherever it is that he hides, and Bobby Singer, obviously not a man who is afraid to hide his feelings, sighs heavily and rolls his eyes.

“Keep’em in line while I’m gone, Dean,” Bobby requests before he, regretfully, follows after Uriel.

“Geez, guy’s kind of a dick,” Dean comments. Somehow, Castiel misses when Dean is no longer standing next to his coach but instead standing right across from Castiel, staring at him with pure green eyes that are killer up close.

“Yes, well, Uriel’s not exactly known in the industry for his pleasantness.”

Dean laughs and Castiel tries not to fall into the trap of finding Dean Winchester’s laugh more attractive than it naturally is.

“Dean Winchester, captain of the Kansas Hunters,” Dean says, removing a glove to offer a hand for Cas to shake. “Figure I should introduce myself since we’ll be encroaching on your territory for a bit. But, uh, sorry for the sudden takeover. Wasn’t our choice. Our GM is kind of a douche and sprung the renovations on us last minute.”

Castiel considers the handshake for a moment, probably longer than is socially acceptable, and he’s positive Dean is staring at him like he’s some strange person.

“There’s not much that I could do anyways.”

Eventually, he takes Dean’s hand and shakes it tentatively and tries not to focus on the rough feel of the other’s hands. “Castiel Novak. I… skate,” he mutters.

“Kinda figured that part out,” Dean chuckles before his eyes go wide suddenly, and Castiel, for some reason, mentally does acrobatics trying to figure out if he’s somehow offended Dean. “Holy shit. I know who you are. You’re _the Castiel Novak._ The figure skater! The guy who competed at the Olympics a couple years back.”

“I… am,” Castiel says. He feels his knees go weak and nearly buckles when he sees Dean blush. Castiel doesn’t know Dean from Adam, but something tells him Dean Winchester doesn’t usually blush.

“Sorry, man. I—uh—caught your performance at the Olympics last year. You were fuckin’ amazing.” Dean smiles and blushes even deeper, highlighting the freckles that dot his face in the most gorgeous of places. It makes Castiel’s mouth go dry. “Sorry. Kind of having a fanboy moment here. But, uh, yeah, we did the same Sports Illustrated magazine spread after the Olympics a couple of years ago. You left before I could introduce myself”.”

“Oh.” Castiel isn’t sure why he’s so bereft of words during his conversation with Dean, but here he is, hardly able to form a sentence. “Yes, I was supposed to do that, but I’m not the biggest fan of magazine spreads.”

“Winchester! I need some practice!” a guy yells from the ice. Castiel doesn’t know much about hockey, but he thinks that guy is probably their goalie given the larger padding.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep your panties on!” Dean shouts back as he turns around. When he looks back to Cas, he smiles again and Castiel swallows. “Gotta head back, but, uh… it was good meetin’ ya, Cas. Maybe I’ll see you around?”

The thought of seeing Dean again has Castiel anxious but he just nods and keeps his expression even.

“Umm, yes. I’ll see you around, Dean.”

Dean winks at him as if trying to kill him, and Castiel quickly turns and retreats to his only safe place in the rink right now, which is by Meg. When he walks up though, she’s beaming in an almost predatory manner.

“He called me Cas,” Castiel mutters to her.

“Well, Clarence, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you just made a new friend,” she teases.

“Dean Winchester and I are not friends,” Castiel quickly defends, though he’s not quite sure why.

“Hmm,” Meg purrs. “Fanboying over your career? Giving you a nickname? That looks like a friendship to me. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you might even have a little crush on him.”

Castiel isn’t sure why he feels like the rink is shrinking when Meg makes that assumption about him, but it’s just par for the course when it comes to Dean Winchester apparently.

“I do not have a crush on Dean Winchester, and we are not friends. He is just simply someone who will be sharing our skating rink.” Castiel picks up his bag that is still on the floor and decides to escape to somewhere that’s not here, watching Dean and his team skating around on the rink.

“And where are you going?” Meg questions.

“I am going to do some laps outside.”

As Castiel makes his way to the door, he mentally adds ‘find a way to deal with Dean Winchester’ to his list of things to get done soon.

 **◇** **◇** **◇ ◇ ◇ ◇**

 

“Brother, is there a reason you stand here and watch them every day?” Benny drawls as he sidles up next to Dean.

Dean turns to Benny and shrugs before turning back to the figures gliding across the ice.

“Nah. Just, uh, chillin’. Watching them is kinda relaxing.”

He’s too captivated with the ice skating duo in front of him to bother concocting a better lie. Something about Castiel Novak’s captivated him since the day Dean opened the winter Olympics issue of Sports Illustrated and saw the spread of Cas and Meg, one of the only few others to place at the Olympics that year. To Dean, it’s kind of a miracle that he’s meeting Cas now of all days.

It’s been a little over two weeks since the Hunters took up temporary residence in this skating rink, and each day, Cas shows up at the same time and just watches them practice. They don’t talk, even though Dean yearns to walk up to him and do so. Instead, Dean just watches from afar.

When the team’s usual morning practice session ends though, Dean can’t seem to stop himself from lingering to watch Cas and his partner Meg perform. Sometimes, it reminds him of his old dream of becoming a figure skater. But that’s a distant memory now.

He’s content to live vicariously through watching Castiel, who comes with the added bonus of looking damn good doing it.

“Seriously, Dean. You wait around every day just watchin’ those two jump and spin around. What’s the deal?”

“I’m just watchin’, Benny. Besides, got nothin’ better to do,” Dean answers with a shrug.

“Of course, you’re just watching,” Benny replies, tone sarcastic.

Dean turns up to Benny and rolls his eyes. “It’s not what you think.”

“Wasn’t born yesterday, Dean. I see how you look at him. And I see the way he looks only at you too. I was just bein’ nice and seein’ if you’d tell me the truth or not.”

Music plays overhead, some fancy string music he’s never heard before, and Dean turns back to the ice and watches as Cas and Meg glide across the ice hand-in-hand, spinning. He only knows a little bit about figure skating, definitely not all the fancy names for the jumps that they’re doing, but he’s captivated. Cas radiates raw power. Watching how Cas lifts his partner with ease while maintaining his composure on the ice is indescribable. Occasionally, Cas grabs Meg's face in a way that almost looks as if they're about to kiss. 

Dean’s glad Cas doesn’t protest when he pulls the Impala to a stop outside a shoddy looking bar that sits right outside the city limits. The Roadhouse isn’t exactly a place he would expect Cas to go to, but then again, he knows next to nothing about Cas. Still, Cas doesn’t protest when Dean pulls the Impala into a spot right outside the bar.

“Hope you don’t mind burgers. This place has got the best burgers and beer,” Dean mentions as he turns the Impala off. Maybe it’s nerves, but when Cas does that little head tilt again, Dean instinctively wonders if he’s made the wrong decision. “Unless, you know, you want something else. Sorry, didn’t consider if you have a strict diet or anything,” he quickly adds.

Cas finally cracks a tiny smile. “I think I can add another cheat day this week,” Cas answers with a chuckle.

_Thank fuck._

Dean grins and gets out of the Impala and waits until Cas is out before he pushes and holds the door open for him and Cas to enter. There’re a few regulars in there, guys he sees pop in and out for a few rounds of pool and beers. And then there’s Ellen.

The moment he walks in he sees her dark brown hair flip as she homes in on him.

“‘Bout time you showed your face here,” Ellen greets, voice stern but full of love as she slips from behind the counter.

Dean’s body moves on autopilot and meets her halfway into a big, and long overdue, hug.

“You know better than to go this long without droppin’ in to see me. I taught you better than that,” Ellen chides into his neck before pulling back. She gives him that usual motherly once-over while keeping her hands on his shoulders. “Look at you. You probably lost ten pounds since I saw you. You need to get more food in you.”

Dean rolls his eyes and grins. “It’s why I’m here. I figured I could bring Cas here, to the place with the best burgers and beer in town.”

Ellen looks past Dean to Cas, who is silently standing behind him. Dean wonders if Ellen is judging him like she does just about anyone he brings with him to the Roadhouse. Dean may not have had a ton of long-term relationships to his name, but the few he’s had all had to pass the Ellen test, and a lot of times, they didn’t.

“Hello. My name is Castiel,” Cas greets, offering a hand for her to shake.

“Ellen Harvelle,” she says as she takes Cas’ hand. “Owner of the Roadhouse and surrogate mother to this knucklehead.”

Dean rolls his eyes but doesn’t object. He knows better.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Cas replies.

“Same here.” Ellen turns to Dean and pats him on the back. “You and your friend grab a seat. I’ll get Ash back there to whip up your usual and bring it out to you.” She stops and pins him with a glare. “You’re not on one of those diets again, are you? I ain’t having Bobby call me up and chew me out again.”

Dean shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Nope. Make it as big and greasy as you can.”

“Alright. One big and juicy burger and fresh made pie comin’ right up.”

“Thanks, Ellen.” He throws a wink and smile her way before she walks off and Dean turns to Cas. “So… you wanna grab a seat over there?” He points to a couple of booths on the empty side of the bar and Cas shrugs.

Dean leads the way, and both slide into a booth opposite one another, the dusty, early afternoon sunlight filtering in.

“So, I take it you’re from around here and have known Ellen a long time?” Cas starts almost immediately after he’s seated.

“Yes, sir. Born and raised here, and Ellen wasn’t kidding when she said she’s like my second mom. She practically raised me. My mom died when I was young, so it was just my dad, me, and Sammy. Ellen was our neighbor and helped out when dad was busy or traveling.”

“Oh… I’m sorry to hear that. But that’s… refreshing that she’s like your second mom.”

Dean can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, it was nice… well, when she wasn’t disciplining the hell out of us. Me, Sam, and Jo always found a way to get in trouble, and Ellen wasn’t one to let us off easy.” Cas smiles, and damn does Dean like when he smiles. “So, what about you? I don’t know anything about you. Well, besides the fact that you’re a damn good skater.”

“Oh, well, what would you like to know?” Dean sees a small blush cross Cas’ cheeks and Dean wonders if there isn’t anything cute or hot about this guy.

“Well, how ‘bout where you’re from for starters,” Dean suggests.

“Well… I was born in a small town in Illinois. Pontiac. I doubt you’ve heard of it. But when I turned six we moved to Boston and that’s where I grew up mostly.”

“Wow, so what’s a guy from Boston doing here in Kansas?”

Cas shrugs again. “I don’t like being recognized. Back home, I’m a local celebrity. I didn’t like the attention that came with. It’s part of the reason I enjoyed ice skating so much. No one cares about you unless you make it to the Olympics.”

Dean snorts. “I’m with you on that. I mean, I still get recognized here and there, but damn, it feels nice to play a sport where the paps aren’t out trying to take my picture every time I go to the bathroom.”

That earns him another smile and a chuckle from Cas which Dean drinks in like fine craft beer. He really does wish Cas would smile more cause, _damn_ , it’s gorgeous.

“Meg and I went to the same college together so we could keep skating, and after we graduated we both agreed to move somewhere away from home that was small and off the grid. She picked Kansas, so here I am.”

For some reason, hearing that Meg came with Cas bothers him, like a tiny little prick on his skin. When he googled Cas the other night he couldn’t help reading the few online gossip columns about Cas and Meg, mostly written around the Olympics last year. It hurt seeing how many speculated that they were dating even though neither had confirmed it. Maybe it’s the tacit confirmation that he might be wasting his time even doing this. Even so, he’s not going to stop unless he has total confirmation.  

“So, you and Meg. You two must have been friends for a while then?”

Cas narrows his eyes in suspicion, and Dean wonders if he’s already touched on a sore spot with Cas.

“We met in high school. She was one of the only few in our school who skated competitively. It wasn’t until senior year that my coach suggested we do partner skating. From that moment on we’ve always been a team.”

“Damn… that’s pretty cool. Guess she knows you pretty well, huh?”

Cas hums in agreement but doesn’t answer, and Dean gets a pit in his stomach that threatens his appetite.

“I read about you.” Cas’ admission catches Dean off-guard a little. Honestly, he figured up until today Cas had little interest in him, so it’s surprising to hear that Cas cared enough to research him. “Well… I read a couple of magazine interviews you did. I was particularly fond of the one Sports Illustrated did on you back in college. The one where you made the front cover.”

“Damn, you found a copy of that still?” Dean laughs.

“It was a good interview. I liked how candid you were about everything, even the difficult things like your father.”

Dean scratches the back of his neck as he remembers that interview. It earned a _lovely_ phone call from his dad back then. He’s still not sure he’s been fully forgiven for it.

“Can’t say it was my best moment, and boy did the old man tear into me for that one. But, hey, you live and learn.” Cas nods, expression still unreadable to Dean, but he doesn’t get an opportunity to continue as Ellen walks out with a tray stacked with two plates of  big burgers and fries, just the way he likes it, and two giant mugs of beer from the tap.

“Alright, boys. Fresh off the grill and just the way you like it, Dean.”

Dean takes a whiff and stops himself from drooling on the food. “Damn, this smells good. You’re the freakin’ best, Ellen.”

“Yeah, well, you can pay me back by not bein’ a stranger. Next time, I’m gonna hunt you down myself if you don’t show.”  

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Just been busy is all,” Dean laughs.

“Mhm,” Ellen throws back an eye roll clearly filled with a fond admiration for Dean. “You boys enjoy. And don’t forget to call Jo. She’s gonna be pissed that you stopped by when she’s not here. Least you can do is call her.”

“I will,” Dean sighs. Ellen pats him on the shoulder before heading back behind the bar. Dean turns to Cas and offers an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Jo is kinda like me sister. She hates whenever I stop in unannounced. Usually gotta make it up to her by flyin’ her out to catch a game or something.”

Castiel smiles between bites of his burger. It’s definitely one of the better burgers Dean’s eaten in a long time, and he’s glad Cas is getting to enjoy it with him too.

“That’s very nice of you. I imagine with your salary, that’s not exactly a hard thing to do,” Castiel jokes.

“Yeah, well, gotta use this money for something. I swear, people hand you money left and right just to wear their shit,” Dean says around a mouthful of burger.

“Sounds like such a hard problem to have.” Cas fakes a look of sympathy and Dean tosses a fry at him. Cas grins and snickers and Dean realizes just how casual he and Cas are acting. He hopes maybe that means Cas and he are on the same page.

“Hey, I’m a very humble guy, I’ll have you know.”

“Only the most unhumble ones have to remind others of how humble they actually are,” Cas says it so deadpan that Dean feels that awkward sense of being put on the spot, and he wonders if he’s joking. But Cas’ suddenly stiff expression relaxes into another grin, and Dean nearly loses it laughing.

“Damn, Cas. You got me.”

They laugh and eat in silence for a while. It’s comfortable though, not a hint of awkwardness as they clean their plates. If anything, Dean’s amused that Cas can put away that much food that quickly.

“You know, you’re very graceful when you skate,” Cas comments out of the blue after he finishes wiping his mouth off with his napkin.

Dean looks up to him and sees Cas staring at him, blue eyes crystal with something akin to curiosity floating around in them. Dean drops the few fries he was going to eat back on his plate and opts instead to down the rest of his beer.

“Really? Not exactly the compliment I was expecting,” Dean says, chuckling to hide how unprepared Cas’ compliment makes him. “The guys usually tell me I’m a pretty shitty skater.”

Cas tilts his head and Dean starts to realize that a head tilt usually means he’s said something profoundly stupid. Still, it’s hard to be terrified by Cas’ eye squinting-head tilt when it looks so damn adorable.

“Why would they say that? You’re skating is so poised. The way you move around people when you’re playing hockey… it’s lovely to watch. Have you ever considered figure skating?”

The moment the words are out of Cas’ mouth, Dean has sudden flashbacks to his oh so fun times with his dad.

_“Hockey is a man’s sport, Dean. You ain’t figure skating. I raised you better than that.”_

_“You ain’t goin’ out there in a frilly leotard. Hockey, Dean. That’s what’s in your blood. That’s what you were raised to play.”_

Some days, Dean doesn’t even realize how much that affects him until he takes a look at where he is now, and he wonders where he would be if he had maybe just not listened to his dad back then.

“Dean?” Cas asks.

“Huh?” Cas now seems concerned but Dean brushes it off and just smiles and shakes off the old memories. Those are things to deal with another day, definitely not during lunch with Cas, the hot figure skater who probably doesn’t have any interest in Dean’s emotional baggage. “Sorry. Just zoned out is all. What did you ask again?”

Blue eyes don’t seem to budge and it’s obvious Cas isn’t buying his excuse, but for Dean’s sake, he just hopes he’ll drop it.

“I was just asking if you’d considered figure skating before? Your form is very conducive to good figure skating.”

Dean leans back in his seat and shakes his head while trying to regain his composure a bit.

“Nah. Thought never crossed my mind. Sammy and I were pretty much born to play hockey. Perks of having a former pro for a dad.” There’re more questions dancing around in Cas’ expression, but Dean can’t answer them right now, or at all.

Have you considered figure skating? How is he supposed to answer that when he’s wanted that ever since he was six and first put on a pair of skates ? He’s never quite gotten over that desire. Obviously, he knows he can’t just change all of a sudden. Hockey is what he does. It’s who he is.

Some days, he just wishes he hadn’t let it be.

“I think I should probably head back to the rink,” Cas says interrupting his thoughts.

“Yeah? Got big plans after this?”

Cas finally cracks another smile. “Well, if you consider afternoon workouts before our second skating session of the day big plans, then yes, I do.”

“Sounds like fun.” Dean watches Cas reach into his pocket and slowly pull out his wallet, but Dean beats him to it, grabbing the card out of his wallet and waving it in front of Cas. “It’s on me.”

“I’m fine to pay for my own, Dean,” Cas argues, frowning.

“Course you can, but I invited you out so it’s my treat.” That doesn’t seem to move Cas’ expression so Dean chuckles and leans forward on the table. “Tell you what, how ‘bout you pay for lunch next time? That’ll make us even.”

“There will be a next time?”

“Course there’ll be. We’re friends. Unless you don’t want to do lunch again.” Dean silently prays his fears of Cas actually saying no to lunch are unfounded, and much to his relief, Cas grins.

“I would like to do lunch again. My treat.”

Dean winks and rises to his feet, wrapping an arm around Cas, and mentally realizing that he’s somehow already gone on Cas from just one first date.

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Cas.”

**◇** **◇** **◇ ◇ ◇ ◇**

 

Somehow, Dean Winchester manages to squeeze his way into Castiel’s life, and Castiel isn’t quite sure how he lets that happen. They get lunch at least a couple of times a week, and sometimes Meg or Dean’s teammates, Benny and Victor, join them. Sometimes it’s even all three.

Still, as much as he loves Meg, and as much as he’s sure Dean enjoys Benny and Victor, there’s something inexplicably calmer and better when it’s just him and Dean.

With Meg, they’ve been friends for years and she knows things about him that no one knows, not even his own family. She was the first person he’d come out to in college, and she even helped set him up on his first date. Generally, life is easier when Meg is around.

But when it comes to Dean, he can’t say that feeling holds up.

The times they eat without Meg or Dean’s teammates there, Castiel learns so much more about Dean outside of the hockey-playing heartthrob reputation he holds. Castiel learns that Dean watches cheesy soaps in his downtime, particularly Dr. Sexy, which Dean is only recently unashamed to share. He learns about Dean’s brother, Sam, and how Sam is just a year away from finishing law school. He learns that Dean Winchester is so much more than he seems at first appearance.

Castiel is seated, watching the Hunters scrimmage again. He feels like he should be bored watching them do the same drills every day, but he’s content to sit and watch in silence. He’s stopped trying to fool himself into thinking he’s actually watching the game and accepted that he’s simply finding an excuse to ogle Dean. Dean usually makes it worth his while and occasionally looks up and waves at him after a goal or a good hit. Today is no exception.

Bobby blows the whistle after Dean body checks a teammate into the barrier. Castiel sees the number and recognizes it  as Gordon Walker’s number, and finds himself sneering and wanting to yell, especially when Gordon pushes Dean and the two get closer into one another’s face. Dean’s pushing him back to the point that Castiel expects a full-on brawl between the two any moment now.

Bobby blows the whistle several times, each getting progressively louder as Dean and Gordon ignore it, and several teammates jump into the fray to break up the skirmish when Gordon throws a punch narrowly missing Dean’s face. Castiel feels his own adrenaline rushing as he watches, and he feels a pull to almost jump in on Dean’s behalf.

“Look at all that adrenaline. Kinda gets a girl all gushy inside.” In all the chaos, Castiel doesn’t notice Meg sneak up next to him. “Morning, Clarence,” she greets as she falls into a seat next to him. “I see we’re partaking in your new favorite pastime of ogling Dean Winchester.”

“You’re here early,” Castiel says, choosing to ignore her jab at him.

“I got bored. Figured I could come keep my bestest friend in the whole wide world company.” Dean and Gordon are both off the ice now while the rest of the team continue to play. Castiel may not be able to see Dean’s face underneath the mask, but he somehow knows that Dean’s seething.

“You look like hell,” Meg comments.

Castiel’s shoulders stiffen and he remembers the heavy bags and bloodshot eyes severe lack of sleep had left him when he looked into the mirror earlier this morning.

“I didn’t sleep well is all.”

“No duh,” Meg quips. “So, are you done trying to deny you have a crush on the hot center?”

“I… have no clue what you’re talking about,” Castiel denies, his face heating up as he finds himself embarrassed by her question.

“Right? Because it’s completely normal for someone to waste two hours of their life everyday watching a total stranger play hockey. Face it, you’ve got the hots for Dean Winchester.” Castiel feels her peering at him, but he keeps his face forward and focused on the team as they all break, their daily morning practice done for the day. “I mean, you’ve got good taste though. He’s cute.”

“He’s also very much straight,” Castiel adds.

It wasn’t a lie that he didn’t sleep well last night, but it wasn’t the whole truth. He left out the part where he’d spent last night giving into temptation and looking up Dean’s past relationships. As it turns out, Dean was pretty much the walking Casanova Castiel expected him to be. There were dozens of paparazzi photos of Dean with different women just from the last few months alone, and a few of the women seemed to be present more than others. In particular, a redhead with a cute bob, a short blonde, and a long dark-haired woman, all beautiful in their own distinct ways, seemed to be with Dean a lot.

It sucked, seeing that Dean clearly had to be dating one of them, and he’d tossed and turned all night, of course with the help of a couple of shots of vodka, which may or may not have helped him acclimate himself to the feeling of unspecified rejection.

“Is straight what you’re calling it now?” Meg jokes, snickering to herself as she leans back in her seat. “Let me guess, you looked up all the old paparazzi photos of him last night and now you’re wallowing in self-pity?”

Sometimes he really hates how well Meg knows him.

Castiel sighs and nods. “I don’t know why I hoped for any different.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because he’s flirting with you?”

“He’s not flirting with me, Meg. He’s just being nice.”

“Of course. Guys always take total strangers out to lunch by themselves or clearly get upset when they don’t get any alone time with someone. The last time a guy was _nice_ to me the way Dean is to you, he got laid. _A lot._ ”

Castiel shudders and nearly gags at the thought of Meg having sex, but pushes it aside when he sees Dean walking towards them, pulling his mask off and giving Castiel a full view of what a sweaty hair and faced Dean Winchester looks like. It’s not doing much to help his depression at Dean’s seeming lack of availability.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean greets with surprising enthusiasm albeit his altercation just moments ago with Gordon. “Meg,” Dean adds, the enthusiasm now gone and his smile just a little less bright.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel looks at Dean and has to remind himself that Dean’s untouchable goods. Thinking that way makes it just that much harder to be around Dean now. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be, Cas?” Dean asks, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

“Well, you and Gordon were pushing each other, and he threw a punch at you. I think it would be normal to inquire whether you’re alright or not,” Castiel answers.  

Dean scratches the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed, but making Cas’ throat go dry as he watches a tiny blush creep into his cheeks.

“Sorry you to had to see that. Gordon’s a dick… but, uh, I shouldn’t have even retaliated. You know, being team captain and all.”

“What’s hockey without a little bit of violence,” Meg says as she looks between the two of them, a curious leer in her eyes. “So, what brings you over here today, captain?”

“What? A guy can’t come over and hang out for a bit? There’s gotta be a reason to come over now?” Dean counters.

“Of course not, right, Castiel?” Meg says, turning to Castiel.

Castiel freezes in shock when Meg wraps an arm around him and leans her head on his shoulder in a way he’s only seen couples do. He’s too confused to shrug her off, but he’s even more confused when he sees the sudden downturn in Dean’s lips.

“Umm, right,” Castiel answers, hesitantly. “It’s always good to see you, Dean.” Castiel sees Dean swallow down a lump, but doesn’t say anything, instead looking as if he’s stuck in some sort of frustrating trance. His lips are pulled tight and he looks almost angry. “Dean?” Castiel says to get his attention.

Instantly, Dean snaps out of it and fixes his face before offering a casual grin at him. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good. I actually came over to see if you, uh, wanted to come to our exhibition game next week. It’s against the Redwings. I know you’re not super crazy about hockey and you’re hella busy preparing for your competition, but, uh, it’d be cool if you came.” As if suddenly remembering something, Dean’s eyes go wide and he turns  to Meg. “Oh, you’re invited too, Meg.”

Castiel isn’t sure if he’s imaging it or not, but he’s positive he hears nerves in Dean’s voice. He’s watched Dean give interviews after matches before and watched him answer questions during press junkets. Never once has he heard Dean sound as anxious as he does now.

Castiel looks to Meg who’s finally pulled herself off him, and she shoots him a look that screams _do it_ , and as much as he isn’t sure it’s a good idea, he sighs and offers a small smile to Dean.

“I’ll be there. Just let me know the time and place.”

Dean beams, joviality returning to his face. “Great! I’ll text you the details later. Also, can’t do lunch the next few days, but how ‘bout Friday? Think the guys wanna try this new place downtown. I figure you might like it. Real fancy Thai cuisine or something.”

“I… would like that.”

“Awesome. Well, I, uh, have to hit the locker room, so I’ll catch ya round.” Castiel watches Dean walk off with a wave and some renewed sense of joy if his upright posture and smile are any indication.

When it’s just Castiel and Meg within earshot, he turns and fixes her with a glare. “What was that for?”

“What?” she asks, her smirk betraying the innocence in her tone.

“You know what. That was highly inappropriate.”

Meg rolls her eyes with a huff. “Jesus, Clarence. You really didn’t notice it, did you?” Castiel narrows his eyes but Meg just shakes her head. “He looked ready to cry when I did that. His face was literally destroyed?”

Castiel can’t help but fidget in his seat at her revelation. Of course, he has noticed, but he simply doesn’t want to get his hopes up.

“That… doesn’t mean anything. He did just get into an altercation with one of his teammates.”

“C’mon, Clarence. Even you’re not that dense. Dean-O here has a crush on you. The poor guy only invited me because he didn’t want to be rude. He wants _you_ there, not you and present company included.”

Castiel dreads the idea of a public event like that without Meg. She’s always been his rock to things like that. On very rare occasions, Balthazar or even his brother, Gabriel, will join him for formal events, but he doesn’t expect they are even remotely an option right now.

“I… don’t know what to do,” he admits with a long exhale.

“You go, you make the hockey player happy, and you inevitably get into his pants like you’ve been not-so-secretly wanting to the last three weeks. It’s simple, Clarence.”

“I don’t—” Meg is up and walking away before he has a chance to protest further, and so he sits and watches her walk away. He should be preparing for his morning warm-ups, not thinking about Dean Winchester. But now he’s committed to watching Dean play hockey, and quite possibly without Meg.

But, Dean’s just being nice. There’s no way that Dean has any inkling of feelings for him because Dean Winchester is straight as a whistle.

 _Right_?

 **◇** **◇** **◇ ◇ ◇ ◇**

 

The next two weeks pass in a blur and each day has Castiel more anxious about Dean’s exhibition game. Meg refuses to go, and even the promise to pay for his plane ticket down isn’t enough to sway his brother Gabriel into coming with him. Castiel figures Meg may have had a hand in that, given Gabriel’s emphatic no.

_“Sorry little bro. Not interested in flying all the way out there to help you get laid. You’re gonna have to bang that hot hockey player all on your own.”_

_“I do not want to bang Dean Winchester, Gabriel!”_

_“That’s not what a little birdie told me. Anyways, good luck trying to bang Dean Winchester. I’ll look for ya on the television.”_

That of course leaves him attending alone, something that has him panicking even more than he would before going out on the ice for a competition. Which is why he ends up in his closet, pulling out shirt after shirt desperately looking for one he'll look the best in. He’s not sure if he’ll even see Dean, given that it’s an exhibition game and Dean will be playing the entire time.

“Just pick a shirt and go already. It’s not like Dean’s actually interested in seeing you with a shirt on,” Meg huffs, sitting on Castie’s bed while flipping through a magazine she’s not even pretending to read anymore.

“Don’t be so vulgar,” Castiel retorts. “This is your fault anyways for not going with me.”

“And be a third wheel while I watch you and loverboy stare lovingly into one another’s eyes? I’ll pass.” Before Castiel can grab another shirt, a hand reaches past him and he turns to see Meg behind him. Before he can say anything, she drops a shirt on his head before returning to his bed. “There. Now hurry up and go to your date. Puck drops at seven-thirty and poor Dean-o is gonna be so sad if he doesn’t see you in the stands.”

“It’s not a date.”

Meg rolls her eyes but doesn’t bother to look up at him. “Keep trying to convince yourself, Clarence. Now, can you go? I need to abuse your television and Netflix account.”

“You have both of those at your place,” Castiel argues.

Meg rolls over on his bed, grinning while upside down. “But I like yours so much better. Now get lost before Dean calls me asking where his boyfriend is.”   

Castiel fixes her with a bemused glance. “Does Dean have your phone number?”

“The answer to a question for another day.” Meg’s clipped response is enough to alert Castiel that he should be on his way out the door so, with a heavy sigh, he grabs his coat and walks out to his old pick-up that’s sat in his driveway. Meg often wonders when he’ll get rid of it, given the money he’s made with all the endorsements that rolled in, especially after their Olympic run, but Castiel prefers low key. The less people know he’s around the better.

He cranks up his truck and before he knows it, he’s heading back to the rink for the third time today, this time as a spectator watching Dean in his own environment.

He’s wonders if Dean will even know he’s there. He wonders if anyone else is there? Maybe the women he sees in all the paparazzi photos will be there. After all, Dean really can’t be interested in him? Dean’s just a man who wants to be friends. Though he enjoys most of Dean’s friends, he can see how seeing them all the time would be too much.

He’s thinking too much. Castiel realizes this when he nearly runs a red light.

He needs to breath. He needs to realize that this is exactly what it is. He’s just going to watch a friend play hockey. He repeats this mantra in his head over and over until he’s reached the parking lot outside the rink.

The parking lot is full, fuller than Castiel has ever seen, and that includes the first open skate night of the year. Castiel can’t imagine pulling a crowd like this, even at some of his local competitions. As he parks his car in the back and makes his way inside, he wonders if their poor rink can even handle a crowd this size.

It’s even more of a zoo inside.

People flock back and forth all decked out in the Hunter’s colors, red and black, many even wearing jerseys with the names of the players on them. Most being Dean’s.

There isn’t a lot of seating in the rink, so most everyone has to stand and watch, cheering as some of the Hunters and the Redwings skate about. Castiel inserts himself in between some people in the quieter side of the rink and watches.

He recognizes some of the team from their numbers, and the team showers the fans with love, waving and fist-pumping as the fans go wild. Castiel sees Benny, Victor, and hell even Gordon, but he can’t find Dean just yet.

All of a sudden, the crowd goes wild, screaming and cheering, and Castiel turns around to where everyone is looking and he sees Dean emerge from the back offices. Castiel connects eyes with Dean, and Dean lights up, making his way over to Castiel excited and clearly energized.

“Glad you could make it!” Dean shouts, trying to communicate over the loud screams and cheers behind him.

“I definitely wouldn’t want to miss it. This is very… different from what I’m used to,” Castiel yells back.

Dean laughs and claps him on the back. “You get used to it. But, hey, some guys are going to the Roadhouse after the game. You should come!”

Coming to the game was hard enough, but now drinks with the team too? Castiel knows he can’t turn Dean down. He can’t imagine being the one to dim Dean’s bright smile and energy, and he isn’t sure he could handle that. So, he nods and smiles.

“I’ll be there.”

Dean beams before he hears a whistle being blown by one of the referees on the rink.

“Gotta go, but, uh, I’ll see you after the game?”

Castiel chuckles and smiles. “You will. Good luck on your game.”

Dean backs away and snickers. “Don’t need luck when I’m already a badass.” He winks at Castiel before he runs through some of the crowd, high-fiving them as he makes his way down to the off-limits area that serves as the team’s bench. Castiel watches as Dean and Bobby talk for a minute while Dean ties on his skates, and then Dean’s out on the ice and the crowd cheers even louder.

Castiel scares himself by even giving a congratulatory whoop himself. He stops the minute it’s out of his mouth.

Before he knows it, Dean and one of the Redwings are lined up at the center and the whistle is blown as the puck is dropped and immediately the teams break and the game begins.

What little bit Castiel knows about hockey, and admittedly he looked up to prepare for tonight so he didn’t look like a total schmuck, serves him well enough as he generally knows when to cheer and when to boo. As much as he’d like to watch the overall game, his eyes are glued to Dean.

Dean marches through the ice with confidence and elegance, not at all unlike a figure skater preparing for their toughest, most ambitious routine. There’s just something about him that’s a cut above the rest. He’s skillful, passes the puck to his teammates at just the right time, and the guy isn’t one to let cheap hits go either. Every body check against a teammate is returned in full by Dean moments later. Clearly, Dean’s got the art of it down because he’s only given one penalty despite the multitude of checks he gets.

If anything, it just solidifies Dean’s team captain status, and shows why he is the man who made the Olympic team all those years ago.

Castiel can’t stop himself from cheering every time someone on the Hunters scores, and he feels beside himself with embarrassment when he nearly has an out of body experience when Dean scores the final goal for the Hunters, putting them ahead of the Redwings by one point in the last minute. Other Hunters’ fans around him quickly join the cheering.

It doesn’t even feel like two hours has passed but the final buzzer sounds and the Hunters’ fans go wild and Castiel doesn’t even try to stop himself from cheering and screaming with them. The Hunters finish their congratulatory high-fives with the other team before they’re back on the ice and pumping the fans up even more.

Castiel looks around to find Dean, and because fate has a great sense of humor, it’s the exact same moment that Dean turns over to look at him. Castiel doesn’t think Dean should be able to spot him in the crowd, but somehow Dean manages and waves to him.

Castiel waves back, beaming and shouting ‘congrats’. Dean laughs before he’s bombarded by his teammates in a celebratory body check or hug or something that Castiel isn’t sure about. There is one thing Castiel realizes though and that is he is very much fucked.

If tonight has proven anything, he really does have a big, fat crush on Dean Winchester, and he’s not sure at all what he’s going to do about it.

 **◇** **◇** **◇ ◇ ◇ ◇**

 

The Roadhouse goes from quiet to every bit as rowdy and crazy as Castiel would expect from a fraction of a celebratory NHL hockey team. Castiel has left the game well before the team has, hoping to avoid the traffic that would be sure to follow after the Hunters’ win. Being the first one there, Ellen welcomes him in as if he’s been a regular for years, she even hugs him.

It starts out slow though, just Castiel and a few others the only ones in the Roadhouse, but after only about twenty minutes or so after Castiel’s arrival, the Hunters come charging in, led by Dean.

“We won!” Dean shouts. It’s followed by several loud chants and cheers from his few teammates behind him.

“Good on ya, now get your asses in here and get some beer and shut my damn door,” Ellen demands, grinning the entire time.

Ellen’s not alone though, there’s a guy with a mullet working the bar too that some of the Hunters seem familiar with. Castiel discerns his name is Ash, but his even mild curiosity in Ash is replaced by his sudden fascination with the blonde who’s standing next to Ash. Castiel immediately recognizes her as one of the girls in all the paparazzi photos of Dean, and suddenly Castiel feels a little sick.

“Cas!” Castiel looks up to see Dean waving him over as he and some of the other players push tables together to seat all of them. “Come join us!”

Castiel obliges and falls into a chair that just happens to be next to Dean. The table is full of Dean’s closer teammates. Victor is there, arm wrapped around a brunette with a thick, English accent while Benny is next to them with a woman. There’s a couple of others, but they’re alone, and then there’s him, next to Dean.

“Cas, meet Bela, Victor’s girlfriend, and Andrea, Benny’s wife,” Dean introduces.

“So, you’re the little figure skater that Dean’s been talking about incessantly,” the brunette, Bela comments.

“I don’t talk about him incessantly,” Dean quickly interjects.

“Oh, that’s not what I hear,” Bela disagrees.

“Yeah, well, no one’s really interested in what you hear,” Dean bites back.

“C’mon, guys,” Victor interjects. Victor turns to Cas and huffs, seemingly exasperated already. “In case you couldn’t tell, Dean and Bela are just the best of friends.”

“The bestest,” Bela adds, tossing a sickly-sweet smile in Dean’s direction.

Dean leans over to whisper into Castiel’s ear, but Castiel almost doesn’t have enough brain power to put towards understanding Dean because he’s so focused on the fact that Dean is this close to him.

“Just ignore her. She’ll try to get under your skin. Don’t know what Vic sees in her,” Dean murmurs into his ear.

“Hey, brother. Don’t be tryin’ to sneak off with Cas just yet. Some of us wanna hang out with ya while we got a chance to,” Benny interrupts.

Cas feels his face go hot and he can only imagine he’s turning red. All these references to him and Dean together, makes him feel awkward… and hopeful. He’s been around athletes before, and even some hockey ones, and he knows how athletes talk to each other. Castiel just prays this isn’t some locker room talk.

“Damn, you’re some needy fuckers today, aren’t you?” Dean teases. Benny and Victor laugh while Andrea and Bela seem amused. Castiel just wonders how he’ll fit in.

Just then, the same blonde that was with Ash before walks up to the table, and Dean immediately gets a big smile on his face while Castiel feels another wave of nausea. He never realizes, though, that she would be someone who lives close.

“Well look who it is,” the girl smirks.

“Sonuvabitch!” Dean shouts, beaming practically from ear to ear. “I didn’t think you were in town!”

“I wasn’t, but mom called and said you were, so I figured I’d make a trip over to come see you.”

“Well, lookie here. It’s Jo! How ya been,” Benny adds, grinning just the same as Dean.

Suddenly, Castiel feels stupid. There’s a weird shame when he realizes that one of the women he’s been so jealous of walking the red carpets and being snapped in photographs alongside Dean is Jo, his surrogate sister.

Dean seems to waste no time in turning his attention between him and Jo. “Jo, meet Cas. He’s a _friend._ ” Castiel doesn’t miss the way Dean puts extra emphasis on the word friend, and now he really wonders if Dean is just trying to reinforce that they’re only friends.

All of a sudden, he feels a sense of dread and panic. Castiel was starting to think maybe he wasn’t reading this whole thing with Dean wrong, but now he’s not so sure. Dean seems to be every bit as jovial and flirty with his teammates as he is with him.

Maybe he’s being too obvious about his crush on Dean, and Dean’s taking pity on him and is gently reminding him they’re only friends.

“Cas… Cas?” Dean exclaims, shaking him a bit to shake him from his thoughts.

Castiel looks up between him and Jo and tries to morph his face back into a happier one. “My apologies. I zoned out.”

Dean doesn’t seem so sure, but whatever it is that’s on his mind he lets it fall away, grinning a little. “I was just trying to introduce you to Jo. She’s a fan of yours actually.”

“Oh, well, it’s… not very usual that I meet anyone who’s a fan,” Castiel says, hoping he’s not scaring Jo away with whatever it is his face is doing that he can tell is definitely not smiling.

“Of course! Mom got us into skating pretty early. Always wanted to be a figure skater when I was a little girl. Wasn’t in the cards for me, but I like to watch the routines sometimes. You and Meg are one of my faves,” Jo explains, with a sincere look that lets Castiel know she’s not just being polite.

“Well, thank you.” Finally, Castiel feels a true smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“You gonna join us, Jo?” Victor inquires, while Bela is wrapped tight around him.

“Wish I could. Downside of coming home is mom is quick to put me to work. Especially, when we got Mr. hot-shot over here dragging in half the fans.” She nudges Dean playfully, and Dean fakes a scowl. “I’ll try to pop in when I can though.”

Dean snickers, but Castiel can tell it’s all in jest. “We’ll see about that. Tell Ellen not to work you too hard. We got some catching up to do.”

Jo rolls her eyes as she walks off back behind the bar, disappearing into the room behind it, and Dean turns back to the team, and Castiel can tell his attention is really on him.

“So, what’d I miss?” Dean asks to the group.

Just like that, the table devolves into a cacophony of several conversations all taking place at the same time. Everyone is drinking and laughing while Castiel watches on, quiet and observant, but also amused. Dean’s really in his element here. He’s smiling and letting loose as they recall plays from tonight’s game. It’s a marked difference from the focused and determined man he saw on the rink only an hour or so ago. It’s enough to distract him from Dean’s whole ‘friend’ comment when he introduced him to Jo.

He’s glad that the attention is off him a bit. Everyone’s been having a good time, and Dean’s even taken a couple of photos with fans who have walked into the bar.

Despite his confusion about the comment, Castiel knows he’s enjoying this. He likes seeing Dean in his element like this.

It’s of course Bela who finally ruins the moment with a question.

“Castiel, I must say, I am just absolutely floored by your routines. As a former figure skater, I have to know how you manage to do it all. I mean, what it’s like to compete on that level?” Bela inquires. No one is really paying attention to them, Dean and the others are all involved in another conversation.

“It’s rigorous, I guess,” Castiel answers. “Meg and I train every day, and our coach is not exactly a pleasant person to deal with. He won’t settle for anything less than perfection so it can be grueling. But, Meg and I enjoy what we do so we push through it.”

“Ahh your partner. She’s quite the performer. Tell me, are you two really dating?” Suddenly, for the first time since Castiel joined the group at the table the attention is all on him.

“Bela,” Victor warns, but is ignored as Bela pushes on.

Castiel is aware that Dean’s gone tense beside him now. Dean’s conversation with Benny seems to have reached an abrupt end.

“What? It’s a serious question,” Bela says, faking a look of consternation that she’s earned a warning from Victor. Bela turns to Castiel, and he instinctively knows no good will come from this. “I have to admit, I tend to frequent the gossip blogs, Castiel, and you two look so cute together and your routines are just so passionate. I’ve hardly ever seen a pair so in sync with one another. I just have to know.”

All eyes are between him and Bela now, especially Dean who looks both irritable and scared at the same time.

“We aren’t… we’re not dating. Meg and I are just good friends is all.”

“No one special in your life then?” Bela quickly follows.

“I… umm…”

“Lay off, Bela,” Dean jumps in.

“Oh, come on, Dean. I’m just trying to get to know our friend better. C’mon, Castiel, any special lady or man in your life? I don’t discriminate, of course.”

Dean’s watching him now, and now Castiel really feels put on the spot.

“Umm… no. I don’t think so.”

That seems to surprise Bela, and everyone at the table looks almost immediately to Dean who has a disingenuous smile plastered on. Castiel immediately knows he’s said the wrong thing. There’s just quiet now. The bar is still lively and loud around them, but the table is just stuck. Castiel feels like he’s surrounded by some bubble that drowns out the noise around him. All he’s focused on is Dean.

“Dean…” Cas says, so quiet he doubts Dean even hears it sitting next to him.

“I’m gonna run out to the car real quick. Need to get a couple of bills for some refills. Gotta make sure I tip well or Ellen’ll kill me,” Dean says. It’s an obvious, weak excuse and Castiel is fully aware that Dean is just looking for a way to get up from the table.

“I’ll go with ya, brother,” Benny offers.

“No! I’ll, uh, be fine. Won’t be but a sec.”

Dean gets up and heads out of the bar, leaving the table speechless and Castiel feeling a pit deep in his stomach. Everyone looks around uncomfortably, not sure what to do, and Castiel immediately feels like he needs to follow Dean, but part of him is waiting for an excuse to go. He gets that sign soon though when Benny gives him a subtle look and nods his head towards the door. No one else seems to notice it besides him, but Castiel would kiss Benny for it if he could.

Cas barely gets out an _‘excuse me’_ before he’s out of his seat and following after Dean, completely unconcerned by the looks of the rest at the table.

When Castiel gets outside he looks around but doesn’t see Dean. He sees his Impala straight ahead but Dean’s nowhere around it. He’s not anywhere right outside either. Behind the Roadhouse is a small wooden deck that Castiel makes his way towards, and that’s where he sees Dean. He’s leaning against the wooden railing, looking out into the street as cars pass by.

When Castiel walks up Dean looks over at him and doesn’t bother to hide his look of defeat. All that brightness in Dean’s face is just gone. Castiel feels an indescribable guilt at the fact that he caused that.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas.”

Castiel sidles up to him and Dean just looks ahead, and they just stand there in silence for a little while.

“Sorry about Bela. She’s not my favorite person in the world. I swear she’s only dating Victor for the opportunity to annoy the shit out of me,” Dean says.

“It’s alright. I agree with you. I’ve gotten the impression that she’s not a pleasant person. It’s strange for Victor just from what I know of him,” Castiel agrees.

“Yeah, well, Bela’s a whole different person when it’s just her and Victor. Me personally? I still think Bela’s a witch and has Victor under some fuckin’ spell.” Dean chuckles though and smiles a little. “My personal feelings on her aside, she didn’t have a right to ask you any of that shit.”

“But she wasn’t the only one who wanted to know was she?” The question is out of Castiel’s mouth before he can think to stop himself, and he’s rewarded with a surprised, wide-eyed stare from Dean. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Nah. You’re right.” Castiel feels his heart beating harder now, or maybe, he’s just consciously aware of it right now. “Damn… I should’ve grabbed my beer before I came out here,” Dean mutters with a laugh.

“I can always get us another round. It’s the least I can do,” Castiel offers, smiling and hoping to lighten the mood.

Dean cracks a small smile, though it pales in comparison to Dean’s smile earlier. “Much as I really could use a beer or three, probably better not to have any more. Bobby’ll kick my ass if I show up hungover tomorrow.” Castiel laughs, and they stand in silence again for a few moments. It’s not uncomfortable, but Castiel doesn’t wish it to be like this. He’s finally realizing that he has feelings for Dean, and he only wants to see Dean happy. “Truth is, Cas, Bela only asked about Meg cause I was too chicken to.”

“You were scared?” Castiel suggests.

“Yeah. Kinda hard not to be scared of making an ass out of yourself in front of the guy you’ve had a crush on like a freaking high school girl,” Dean laughs.

Castiel’s heartbeat is very loud now, or at least to him it is. He wonders if maybe he’s hearing things because in no world would he expect to hear Dean Winchester, captain of the Kansas Hunters, admit that he’s got a crush on him.

“You… have a crush on me?” Castiel asks, pointing to himself.

“Gee, don’t sound so surprised,” Dean laughs with a snort. He takes a sharp inhale of breath before he starts to speak again. “I was too chicken-shit to ask if you and Meg were a thing. I admit that Bela wasn’t the only one who was looking around online to find gossip on you. I saw all the stuff about you and Meg being in a secret relationship and I sort of panicked. At the rink and lunch, sometimes I thought maybe I had a shot and you liked me too. Then sometimes I figured I was wastin’ my time. You and Meg, you two seem real close. It’s why I kinda panicked when I invited you to the game. I was practically shittin’ myself the last few days, worried you were gonna bring her.”

Castiel chuckles to himself and sighs as he stares ahead now. “Meg and I are very close, but she had no interest in coming since she’s convinced that you inviting me to your hockey game was actually a date. But, like I told Bela, Meg and I are just a friends. She and I trust each other as partners, but there’s never been a romantic attraction between us. I’m too, quote unquote, boring for her to even consider.”

When Castiel looks over Dean is almost smiling fondly. “Yeah, well, her loss then cause I don’t think you’re boring at all.” Somehow that makes Castiel smile, even though in normal conversations like this, ones that require sharing emotions, he usually clams up. “Cas, look… I know I overreacted, but it’s just… sometimes watching you and Meg on and off ice together, it’s easy for people to think… well, that you’re a thing.”

“Dean… you never had anything to worry about.” Castiel can feel himself blushing again. He had an inkling the conversation would go this way, but he didn’t expect the urge to reveal his feelings to Dean so soon. “If anything, I felt like I had the most to worry about.”

“The hell? Why? I thought I was being pretty damn obvious,” Dean questions, green eyes truly bewildered.

“I might have spent time looking up gossip columns about all the dates you went on with various models. It also didn’t help that I looked at all the paparazzi photos of you with the same women either.”

Dean raises an eyebrow, looking totally confused now before he huffs with a exasperated grin.

“Jesus, Cas, those are just PR dates. My agent sets them up every now and then. And what _same women_ are you talking about?”

Castiel shies away, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks. He’s not sure if he should tell Dean that one of them is in fact his friend Jo. “Well… there’s a redhead and then a brunette that you seemed to be photographed a lot with. I just assumed you had a history dating them. I mean… I haven’t exactly had the best of luck with athletes. They’re always either straight or in the closet. I just assumed.”

Dean bursts out laughing, and Castiel feels even more embarrassed now.

“Damnit, Cas. We’re both idiots, I guess.” Dean looks down and away at Cas before bringing his face back up grinning. “You’re talking about Charlie and Lisa.” Castiel doesn’t know what to say to that so he shrugs and Dean laughs again. “Geez, Cas, you really were worried about the wrong thing. The redhead is Charlie who’s like my best friend. She’s like another little sister to me.”

Castiel feels his eyes shoot wide and now he really feels stupid.

“Like a sister?” Castiel repeats. Realization hits him and Castiel closes his mouth, it had  fallen wide open.

Dean laughs. “Yeah. Charlie and I met during college before I got drafted. She lived in the apartment across from me. We both liked the same things. Video games, pizza, you name it. Definitely not dating her though cause, uh, she ain’t exactly batting for my team.”

Castiel’s heard that phrase enough to know exactly what Dean means by that, so he doesn’t push further but grins as he realizes he’s been an idiot the whole time. Before Castiel can apologize though, Dean continues on, this time looking a little more wistful.

“Lisa, the brunette in all the pap pictures you’re talking about, she’s, uh, a little different. She used to be an athletic trainer for the team a few years ago. We used to hook up sometimes a year or so after I started with the Hunters.”

 _Oh,_ is all Castiel says when he thinks about Dean and Lisa together. Once again, it bothers him more than it should because obviously he had and still has no claim to Dean. “Is that a thing you two still do?”

Dean shakes his head. “Nah. We tried the dating for a bit. Even got to know her kid Ben too. Kid’s freakin’ smart as hell. But, things just didn’t work out. She wanted something more serious and stable for herself and for Ben, and I just… wanted to have fun, so we broke it off. I still like to treat her and Ben to some fun every once in a while, cause—well—she was kinda my first serious relationship, and Ben, I don’t know, sometimes I treat him like he’s my own kid. It’s weird, I know. The guys give me a hard time about it sometimes.”

Castiel shakes his head with a smile. “It’s not, Dean. It’s very… generous of you. I think it just shows how caring you are.” Castiel lowers his gaze before looking up into Dean’s honest green eyes. “That might not be something a hardcore hockey player like yourself would want to hear.”

Dean laughs at that, harder than he has since they’ve been outside together. Castiel just watches, feeling his smile grow larger. It’s in that moment that he realizes just how much he wants Dean Winchester.

“You know, Cas, I think I’m alright hearing that from you.”

When Dean looks at him, his green eyes are sparkling bright under the dim lights that hang over the pavilion, and his smile shines to match them. Castiel goes weak staring at Dean’s figure.

Suddenly, Castiel is aware that Dean is looking him over with what can only be described as bedroom eyes. This isn’t at all how he thought tonight would go, but Castiel isn’t against following through with it.

“Dean…”

He doesn’t need to say another word before Dean closes the gap between them and pushes their lips together. Dean’s mouth tastes of beer and mint and oh so right as they kiss. Castiel wonders if he seems impatient to Dean as he lets his tongue slip into the other’s mouth hurriedly, but if Dean did think so he doesn’t show it.

When Dean pulls away Castiel can almost see stars in Dean’s eyes. They’re so glossy they’re almost glowing, and his kiss-dumb grin is enough that Castiel ignores just how bemused he is too.

“You know, Cas, that might’ve been the best damn kiss I’ve had in a long time,” Dean finally says, grinning even wider now. Castiel is at a loss for words, just smiles instead as his brain can’t quite formulate a response. It also doesn’t help that he’s mentally undressing Dean now, practically salivating at the thought of getting underneath those jeans and shirt. “Wanna get out of here, maybe?” Dean adds, chuckling as he fills in the silence.

“Only if there’s more of that wherever we go.”

It’s not necessarily the answer that Castiel wants to say, and he’s confident he now looks desperate, but Dean seems more than amused by it.

“Your place or mine?”

“Mine is probably closer,” Castiel offers immediately.

Dean laughs again. “Lead the way.”

Castiel looks back at the window to the inside of the bar before turning back to Dean. “Should we tell them where we’re going?”

Dean leans forward, lips almost caressing Cas’ ear. “Rather not waste any time before getting you naked if you catch my drift.”

Dean’s honeyed words are like a soothing aphrodisiac, and Castiel fumbles in his pocket to produce his keys.

“I’ll see you there, then.”

Desperate or not, Castiel is probably giddier than he should be that the man he’s been attempting to suppress his feelings for wants him back. But when Dean gives him another kiss on the lips, all care of how he thinks and feels goes out the window. All he cares about now is getting Dean Winchester naked and inside him.

 **◇** **◇** **◇ ◇ ◇ ◇**

 

Dean and Cas each take their own car back to Castiel’s apartment, and Dean finds himself fidgeting with pent up anticipation the entire drive. He’s been eager to undress and fuck Cas since he’s first laid eyes on him over two years ago in the Olympic village, and finally after all those years the chance is finally here. Thankfully, the drive is short, and once they’ve both arrived parked their cars, Dean immediately flocks to Cas.

He assumes Castiel is feeling that same urge, as Castiel pulls him into an impassioned kiss right there next to the Impala. Dean’s hands gently grab and caress Castiel’s lower back and ass, drawing moans from Castiel that falter into Dean’s mouth.

“Upstairs. Now,” Castiel demands as he pulls his lips away.

“Bossy,” Dean laughs. “I like it.” Castiel grabs Dean’s hand and leads him up the outdoor stairs to his apartment on the second floor and nearly knocks down the door as he fumbles.

Cas’ apartment is every bit the way Dean imagines it: bright hardwood floors and pristine-looking furniture all neatly arranged. There’s a little bit of a mess in the kitchen, but it’s still leagues better than Dean’s own house, which he hasn’t had much time to clean since practice had started. Still, for a world-champion figure skater, Castiel lives fairly modestly, and even that doesn’t surprise him.

“I apologize for the mess. I hope it doesn’t kill the mood.”

Dean laughs and pulls Cas back in for another kiss while Cas kicks the door shut behind him.

“Nothing compared to the mess at my place. Kinda want a tour of your bedroom though,” Dean laughs.

“That can be arranged,” Castiel answers. He gently grabs the hem of Dean’s shirt and drags him into his bedroom before pulling Dean into a rough kiss. Cas is unforgiving in his pursuit of Dean, nibbling on Dean’s lip as he lets his tongue slide into Dean’s mouth.

Cas parts their lips briefly to remove his own shirt. Dean grabs Cas and pulls him closer, their eyes locked and Dean’s legs wobbling in eager anticipation for he and Cas to fall into bed together.

Dean discards his shirt, and it’s followed by his pants, leaving him in nothing but his boxers, in hopes that Cas will follow suit. Cas quickly takes the hint and strips completely, leaving them both naked next to each other, cocks fully erect. Dean sees hunger practically pouring out of Cas’ gaze, and it intensifies the want in himself. Cas licks his lips and smiles.

Dean wipes the smile off his face when he flings himself on top of Cas, tackling Cas on his own bed and devouring Cas’ mouth in a kiss that’s sure to leave their lips swollen in the morning. Their bodies rub against each other, creating a sensual friction as Dean pins Cas to the bed.

“Jesus, Cas. Has anyone told you how fucking hot you are?” Dean whispers into Cas’ ear. His question is answered with a laugh that slips into Dean’s mouth.

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before,” Cas answers as Dean’s lips trail down from Cas’ lips to neck.

Dean continues a trail of kisses down Cas’ body, slowly maneuvering down Cas’ neck and collarbone until he reaches Cas’ nipples. He flicks each one lightly with his tongue, and Cas squirms and bucks, erect cock gliding over Dean’s torso.

“Shit!” Cas blurts out, as each lick to his nipple has him squirming relentlessly. Dean can’t hide the devilish glee as he continues driving Cas to the edge. Each moan and writhe makes Dean lick and nip more at Cas’ nipple.

Dean feels Cas’ fingers grab at his head, long fingers sifting and disheveling his hair. Cas surprises Dean all of a sudden when he pushes Dean up and off of him and manhandles Dean into swapping places so that Dean is lying flat on the bed with Cas straddling him.

Cas leans down and grips the base of Dean’s cock before giving an experimental first lick at its head.

“ _Oh fuck,”_ Dean curses as he feels his muscles tighten. Cas hums, amused, and wraps his lips around Dean’s cock and slowly licks the underside of the crown, teasing him.

Cas’ tongue targets every vein on Dean’s cock, and Dean watches glossy, blue eyes occasionally glance up to meet Dean’s gaze. Dean grips his blanket hard in a vain attempt to keep himself in control.

“Sonuvabitch, Cas. Your mouth is freakin’ amazing,” Dean mutters as he continues to thrust up into Cas’ mouth. Cas hums around Dean’s cock, clearly amused. “Fuck, Cas, so fucking good,” Dean continues to compliment, his voice strained now.

Dean’s balls are tingling, signaling that he’s close to coming, but he can’t let it end like this, without a chance to fuck Cas like he’s wanted for all these years.

“Don’t worry, Dean,” Cas starts as he pulls his lips off Dean’s cock with a raw, sloppy pop. “I am very eager for you to fuck me.” It’s such a blunt way for Cas to say it, but it gets Dean even harder and antsy to fuck Cas. From his nightstand, Cas reaches over and grabs what Dean can see are a condom and a small bottle of lube.

“I want you inside of me, Dean” Cas rasps, impatience lingering in his voice. He drops the condom and lube into Dean’s hand, and Dean hastily unwraps it before rolling it on his spit-soaked cock. Dean pops the cap on the lube and pours a healthy amount of it on his hand before slowly stroking his cock, spreading the lube across his length.

Again, Cas surprises Dean, knowing the exact moment Dean’s done, and rolls over on his back, spreading his legs to give Dean a perfect view of his open and waiting hole.

“Damn, Cas. You’re really ready for this, aren’t you?”

“I would appreciate it if there was less recap and more you getting inside me, Dean,” Cas argues.

Dean snickers and slots himself in between Cas’ legs and wipes the excess lube on his hand to slather and slick Cas’ hungry hole. Dean slowly pushes one of his fingers into Cas, then garners a whimper from him as Dean wiggles his finger deeper inside.

“More,” Cas demands greedily. Dean obliges and inserts another finger, this time slowly pushing and pulling both fingers in and out. Cas jerks a little at the second finger, and he starts to tighten around Dean. Dean continues for a few more moments before completely pulling his fingers out, creating one last powerful squirm in Cas’ body.

“You ready?” Dean whispers. Cas, unable to respond with words, whimpers and nods, and Dean, slowly, rubs the tip of his cock against the crevice of Cas’ ass, teasing Cas by lining his cock up with the ring of muscle.

“Dean,” Cas finally manages to breathe out. “I just need you inside me.”

Dean slowly pushes in, extracting another stronger whimper from Cas who’s writhing and tensing his body in response to Dean’s cock filling him. Dean pants as Cas tightens around his cock in a near vice-grip.

Dean feels like he could come now as he pushes through Cas’ tight, wet heat, but continues on, pushing himself deeper in Cas’ ass and being rewarded with even more loud and lewd whines, especially once he begins rocking back and forth into Cas with a steady rhythm.

“ _Harder_ , Dean, please.”

“Godamnit, Cas, you’re so fucking tight.” Somehow Cas manages to get out a laugh at Dean’s words, but it’s quickly lost when Dean slams into Cas harder.

Dean leans down kissing Cas’ lips and neck and feeling Cas’ cock slide against his stomach, smearing precome on Dean’s body. Their bodies become a blur as Cas attempts to push back against Dean, but Dean pushes down on him a little bit harder to stop him as he continues to slam into Cas relentlessly. Cas is coming soon and Dean can feel it.  

“Dean, gonna come… soon,” Cas whispers. Dean wishes he could take Cas in his mouth as he feels the river of precome coating his stomach, but he focuses on fucking into Cas harder, seeking his orgasm as Cas squeezes around his cock.

“Not yet, just hold on, a bit longer,” Dean pleads.  

Cas wraps his hands around the back of Dean’s neck and pulls Dean into another sloppy, wet kiss. Cas pants into Dean’s mouth each time Dean’s cock exits and subsequently slams back into his hole. Cas’ legs wrap around Dean’s ass, holding him even closer with no room to escape. Not that Dean would ever want to. He would live between Cas’ legs if he could.

“Dean… _Dean_!” Cas growls.

Dean grins. “C’mon, Cas. Touch yourself. Come for me. Come on me.”

Cas obliges and Dean fucks into Cas as Cas smears the precome on his cock and  begins to jerk himself off. Seeing Cas hold back because he asks him to, is too much for him to handle.

“Yeah, Cas. Just like that. Fuck your fist while I fuck you.”

“Dean, more, _please_ ,” Cas whines.

Cas lets out an almost primitive, beast like growl as he comes, spurt after spurt of come erupting from his cock and coating his chest and Dean’s stomach as Dean rubs against Cas as he continues to fuck him through his orgasm.

The aftershocks of Cas’ orgasm wrestle more come from Cas’ body and provide even more tightness for Dean to fuck through. Dean thrusts harder into Cas, fucking until one last powerful push sends a shock course through his body and he’s coming. Shot after shot of come bursts forth and he convulses with intense pleasure, creating even more come than he thought he had in him.

Dean pulls out of Cas, tying off and throwing the severely used condom in the little trash bin next to Cas’ bed. Dean’s body is completely loose and weak, and almost immediately Dean feels a blissful exhaustion pull at his eyelids.

Cas is spread out on his bed, panting hard as he ignores the mess of drying come and sweat on his chest. Dean laughs before turning to Cas and watching a lazy smile spread on his face.

“So, was it good?” Dean mutters.

“It was… an experience,” Cas answers lazily.

“That’s it? C’mon, Cas,” Dean whines playfully. “All athletes need a post-game review. Gotta know what I can improve on next time.”

“There’s gonna be a next time?” Dean would almost be even more mortified by Cas’ question if he didn’t see the figure skater chuckle.

“You’re a dick, you know that,” Dean laughs.

“I’ve been told that before.” Cas sidles closer to Dean, and instinctively, Dean wraps an arm around Cas and it just feels right. It’s the most domestic he’s felt in years, since Lisa. No other person has made him feel like _this_ after sex. He wants to feel like this forever, but there will be another time and place to see if Cas wants this too.

God, he hopes he does.

“I would like there to be a next time. And your performance was, admirable and one I hope to see again,” Cas finally says after a brief moment of silence.

Cas closes his eyes and tucks himself further under Dean’s arm and Dean uses his free hand to haphazardly pull Cas’ blanket up further over their naked, sticky bodies.

“Good, cause I definitely ain’t going anywhere.”

And that’s the truest statement Dean has said in a long time.

 **◇** **◇** **◇ ◇ ◇ ◇**

 

Despite his routine usually requiring him to get up early, Castiel is less than enthused to do so, but he’s learned to deal with it. This particular morning though he’s in a weird state of being glad to wake up. He’s also nervous, more nervous than he would be before a competition.

He’s mastered ice skating, but he’s not quite sure how you handle morning-afters with one of the hottest hockey players in the league.

His ass is sore in all the best ways, and as his body begins to register the world around him, he realizes that Dean’s body is a furnace nestled behind him. Dusty morning sunlight filters in from the window in his bedroom and Dean’s arm is wrapped tight around him. It’s tight enough that Castiel can’t escape Dean’s grip without waking him. Not that Castiel wants to escape.

Castiel manages to shift around to see Dean still peacefully asleep. He knows he’s probably going to be late for his morning training session, but he can’t help but care when he sees just how cute Dean is while asleep like this.

It doesn’t take long after that for Dean to mumble incoherently and yawn.

“Mornin’, Cas,” Dean mumbles, eyes still shut tight as if trying to slip back into deep sleep.

“Good morning, Dean.”

Dean surprises him, using his arm, and a surprising amount of strength for someone newly awoken, and manages to pull Castiel even closer to him, their faces almost touching. Of course, it’s not but a moment before he feels Dean’s hand traveling further and further south until he’s cupping his ass.

“Dean,” he says in warning, unable to hide the smile on his face when he speaks.

“Can’t blame a guy for wanting some more of that?”

Finally, Dean opens his eyes, and Castiel is given the picturesque view of Dean Winchester’s green, golden-flaked eyes glimmering in the morning sun. It’s a view that he would argue rivals all seven wonders. He also realizes that Meg would never let him live it down if he waxes as much poetry about Dean as he’d like to.

“Maybe later,” Castiel replies. Dean makes a pouty face, but Castiel kisses it off his face, ignoring their shared morning breath as he lavishes in the feeling of Dean’s lips on his own. “Are you hungry?”

“Mhm,” Dean agrees.

“I can pick us something from the bakery down the street, if you’d like. I’m not exactly the best cook, or at least, Meg and my family like to tell me that.” Castiel hasn’t been allowed near a kitchen with his family since the Thanksgiving disaster of 2007 where he had been tasked with cooking the turkey and somehow managed to simultaneously undercook and overcook parts of it. That also doesn’t account for the number of times he’s also nearly burned down his apartment forgetting to check on food cooking on the stove. Meg does all the cooking if they ever hang out for dinner, he just graciously pays for whatever she needs.

“You got eggs and bacon?” Dean asks as he sits up in the bed stretching.

“Does turkey bacon count?”

Dean makes a face, but sighs and grins. “Not my favorite, but it’ll do. I’ll whip us up something.”

“Be my guest,” Castiel says with a laugh.

Dean slides out of the bed and Castiel gets another full view of Dean’s naked body, ass and all and it’s still as much of a sight now as it was before. He barely stops himself from whining when Dean shimmies into his boxers but breathes a sigh of relief when that’s all Dean puts back on. He follows suit and searches for his discarded boxers before putting them back on and joining Dean in the kitchen where he’s fishing through his refrigerator and pulling out things.

“It’s a pretty nice place you got here, Cas,” Dean comments as he shuts the refrigerator door and starts looking around the kitchen.

“The pots and pans are in the bottom cabinet to your left. And thank you. Though, I’m sure it’s nothing like your home.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean says, grinning as he fishes out two pans. “You been creepin’ on where I live?”

Castiel laughs quietly to himself as he joins Dean in the kitchen and starts up his Keurig machine, picking out one of the more flavorful blends that he’s kept, usually for Meg or for Gabriel when he makes his occasional, random appearances.

“I have no clue where you live, still, but I can only assume that being the captain of a national hockey team and a former Olympic ice hockey for team USA comes with quite a bit of money that you can use to buy a nice house,” Castiel explains as he starts up the Keurig.

“Yeah, well, can’t say you’re wrong. But, definitely don’t live in a palace or anything, like I’m sure you’re imaging,” Dean jokes. Castiel swaps out the full mug of coffee for another empty one, passing it along to Dean who accepts it graciously after dropping a few slices of bacon down on one of the pans.

Castiel regards him carefully before smirking. “Let me guess. You picked a nice house in the suburbs?”

Dean laughs. “Am I that obvious?”

Castiel shrugs with a grin. “Something about you screams ‘man who craves the simple life’.”

“Damn, you’re good.” Something about the way Dean says that oddly warms Castiel up inside. Maybe it’s the tacit confirmation that some of the things he thinks about Dean aren’t too off-base. “Never liked the fame that came with playin’ hockey professionally. I figured a nice house out in the suburbs would at least help keep the paparazzi away.”

Castiel notices something off in Dean, almost a nostalgic sadness. He can see Dean looking off into space, even though he’s consciously flipping the turkey bacon and cracking eggs into a bowl.

“Something on your mind, Dean?”

“Just thinking is all,” Dean answers. There’s a silent pause before Dean takes a deep breath and starts to talk again. “You know, I never actually wanted to play hockey at first.”

“Really?” Castiel inquires, raising an eyebrow at Dean’s random and sudden confession.

Dean just smiles and shakes his head. “Nah. Actually, when I was younger, I wanted to figure skate, just like you. My mom used to figure skate back in the day. Before Sammy was born, she used to take me to the rink when I was a kid and dad was out traveling with the team, and I’d just watch her. The way she moved, it was graceful and freakin’ regal. Watching you skate reminds me of her.”

Castiel can’t help but smile listening to Dean reminisce about his mom the way he is. He can hear the raw emotion in Dean’s voice as he talks about his mother, and the way Dean’s eyes glimmer gives Castiel a warm feeling inside.

“She sounds like an amazing woman, Dean,” Castiel says as he takes a seat at the island.

“She was the best. She used to tell me stories about how she and my dad met when she would skate at the community ice rink. She said he saw her on the ice once when he and some of his friends were practicing for a hockey game and he just fell in love with her like that.” Suddenly, the smile on Dean’s face is gone and in its place is a pained expression. “When she died… it kinda broke us, but I wanted to continue on her legacy by learning to figure skate. Dad, though, he changed. Got real funny about me ice-skating. Anytime I mentioned it, he’d get mad. He’d say hockey was what I needed to be playing cause it’s a real man’s sport. Figure skating was for girls and sissies.”

Castiel feels a bubble of rage grow inside him because of the countless number of times he’s heard that in his lifetime. Even his own brothers have, and occasionally still do, looked down about what he’s done with his life.

“Your father is sorely mistaken. I know several extremely successful men who figure skate. It’s regrettable that he kept you from figure skating. I can only imagine how amazing you’d be at it,” Castiel barks, shocking himself with how indignant his words sound.

Somehow, Cas’ angry words brings a grin to Dean’s face. “Thanks, Cas. Honestly, I don’t think it had anything to do with figure skating being a sissy sport. I think dad never really wanted to face the pain of mom dying. She loved figure skating and I don’t think he was ready to stomach seeing another family member do it. I didn’t question him too much about it. The one time he caught Ellen taking me figure skating was enough to keep me away from it ever since. He snatched me off the rink so quick I thought my head was gonna snap off my body. Told me if I ever did figure skating again, he wouldn’t drop another dime on me playing sports. Since then, all I did was play hockey and follow in dad’s footsteps. Even after he got booted from the Hunters and started playing minor leagues, he still never caved on the no figure-skating rule.”

Castiel is so focused on Dean’s story that he doesn’t even realize that Dean’s done cooking until he hears the clink of his plates against each other. Dean’s made a large amount of eggs and bacon, but Cas’ growling stomach doesn’t mind the quantity at all. Sex always leaves him starving.

Dean fixes the plates before joining Cas at the table. Castiel is equal parts mystified and in love with how at ease and comfortable Dean is in his apartment. He fits in almost perfectly, and it gives Castiel a strange sense of domesticity he hasn’t ever felt before.

“This looks amazing. Thank you, Dean,” Castiel says, barely finishing his sentence before he shovels a mouthful of eggs into his mouth.

“It was nothing. Besides, best way to not be a booty-call is to stay for breakfast, so I’m kinda being selfish here,” Dean jokes as he takes a bite of his turkey bacon. Castiel raises his eyebrows again and seems to drive Dean into a mini panic if the way his eyes go wide is any indication. “This isn’t just a one-night thing, is it?”

Castiel isn’t quite sure how to answer him because he isn’t quite sure how they got to this point. But he does know that he doesn’t want this to be a one-night stand. Dean’s a little too entrenched now to just up and disappear.

“It’s not, Dean,” Castiel answers, smirking.

“Good. Cause I definitely don’t make breakfast for people who are one-night stands, especially not really hot people that I’ve been thinking about for a long-ass time.”

Castiel chuckles. “And what constitutes a long-ass time?”

“I don’t know. Maybe since I first saw you randomly walking around in the Village two years ago.”

Castiel’s eyes shoot wide open. “You saw me there?”

Dean grins. “Course I did. Team USA was all housed together. I, uh, saw you sometimes in the gym with Meg or out with Uriel. Couldn’t take my eyes off you. Then I sort of met you at the Sports Illustrated photoshoot and now here we are.”

“Eating breakfast naked in my apartment,” Castiel supplies to finish Dean’s thought.

“Exactly.”

They both continue eating in comfortable silence, realizing that their plates are still piled high with food that’s getting cold. All the while, Castiel begins wondering what it would’ve been like to have really known Dean back then. Would they already be dating? Would they have broken up? Would they maybe even be engaged or married? But at the same time, Castiel’s intrigue about Dean’s past hasn’t gone away. He’s curious to know more about Dean and where he stands with his family now.

“What happened to your dad? You never finished your story,” Castiel asks, catching Dean off-guard. Dean shifts in his seat a little, and the lightheartedness in the air is stifled as discomfort radiates off Dean in waves. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t know, maybe, it’s probably better for me to talk about it. Sammy’s always preaching about how talking about feelings and shit is good for me.” Castiel offers him a sympathetic smile which Dean returns before eating another bite of bacon and eggs. “He and I haven’t had the best relationship since I went pro. I haven’t talked to him in probably a year now. After my mom died, he just buried himself in hockey and alcohol. Left me to take care of Sammy. If he wasn’t practicing at the rink or traveling for a game, he was at a bar somewhere getting shit-faced. He eventually did a few stints in rehab after that. Got so bad he eventually got kicked from the Hunters. That’s when he decided to make sure he raised two hockey prodigies to carry on the legacy, whether we wanted to or not.”

Castiel would’ve never guessed that someone like Dean, so bright and generally cheerful, would have such a tragic backstory. The scars Dean had hidden very well are noticeable now. Dean’s tone is rougher, angrier. His father seems to drag out a very dark side of him, a side that Dean obviously doesn’t get to express much.

“I’m… so sorry to hear that, Dean.”

“Hey, ain’t your fault. But dad, he got back into hockey, sort-of. He joined a minor league travel team so he could keep playing. Pretty much left us with Ellen and Jo after that so he could play hockey. When he was around it was to make sure Sam and I were followin’ in his footsteps and playing nothing but hockey. Sam hated it. Fought him every step of the way. But, uh, he got me. Proudest he’s ever been of me was probably when I signed to the Hunters.”

Dean laughs, but it’s so self-deprecating that it almost physically hurts Castiel to hear it.

“I know the feeling,” Castiel says suddenly, thinking about his own family issues.

“Oh yeah? Tell me about it? I realize I don’t know anything about you or your family either, well, besides your brother, Gabe, and he sounds like a douche.”

Castiel chuckles at that and grins. “I think douche is a fitting term for him.” It’s not hard for Castiel to pull at some of his more negative memories from his own family, and in some regards, it’ll be nice to share them with someone other than Meg who hears enough of it anyways. “My family owns a fairly successful investment banking firm that’s supposed to be passed down to my brothers and me. So, you can imagine they weren’t happy when I decided to skate professionally instead of join the family business.”

“Geez. Yeah, I can imagine that. Is it weird though that I can sorta see you in a suit though? Maybe even wearing one of those big ass trench coats those guys on wall street wear sometimes?” Dean laughs. Castiel levels a glare at him, but it makes Dean smile even wider. “It’s not horrible. I think you’d still look pretty hot in the tax accountant get-up.” Dean winks and Castiel drops his weak attempt at a glare.

“Yes, well, I… umm, was not a fan of that lifestyle,” Castiel tries to redirect, blushing even harder now that Dean’s grinning victoriously.

“I can see that. You’re a free spirit. Who needs boring office work?”

“Tell that to my brother. Michael continues to believe that my refusal to join the family business is akin to slandering our family’s name. He refuses to support me. Never has really.”

“Alright, I changed my mind. I think your brother Michael sounds like the biggest dick. Can’t imagine my own brother not supporting me. Sammy and I have been each other’s biggest cheerleaders since he learned how to talk.”

Castiel shrugs as he finishes off the food on his plate. “I can’t say the same for my family. They were fine humoring me when it was just a hobby. The minute I told them I wanted to skate professionally they had no problems trying to convince me that I was wasting my time.”

“Yeah, well, screw them. Look at you now. You’re a freaking rockstar on the ice, and you’ve been to the Olympics. How many people can say that?”

Castiel smiles bashfully, Dean’s praise sparking butterflies in his stomach. “Thank you, Dean. It doesn’t bother me anymore, really. I’ve got Meg, and Gabriel when he’s not busy, so I’m happy.”

“And now you got me,” Dean adds.

Suddenly, Castiel feels a shift in the air. He and Dean have to face what _this_ is between them. The sex is good, honestly great, and in another universe, Castiel could definitely be content only sleeping with Dean. But, here and now, he realizes just how much he wants so much more than that with Dean. But, the question is how does he verbalize it and is now the right time to.

“Yes… I do,” Castiel says.

“So, do we wanna talk about this?” Dean continues.

“This… as in us?” Castiel asks, only to make himself feel like an idiot if somehow that’s not what Dean is talking about.

Dean chuckles though. “’Course I mean us, Cas. Look, I don’t… I don’t wanna lead you on.” Somehow the butterflies in Castiel’s stomach morph into a gaping pit. The words ‘lead you on’ remind him too much of his exes, most who only liked the idea of sleeping with a professional athlete and not the work that comes with it.

“Oh, of course. We wouldn’t want to not be on the same page.”

“Right? And look… I know I’m gonna be traveling a lot and so are you…” Castiel’s just waiting for it now. Friends with benefits. Fuckbuddies. He’s not sure which form it’ll take. “But I really want to make us a thing… is what I’m trying to say.”

Castiel’s tries his best to mask the surprise, but he does a poor job of it.

“A… thing?”

“Yeah?” Dean says, fixing Cas with a perplexed look. “I don’t know… you’re just different, Cas. I like you, and I like that there’s no ulterior motives with you. You just are who you are. Also, you’re freaking gorgeous too, so I want us to be a thing… you know… like boyfriends.”

Castiel just stares because he clearly must be dreaming. Dean Winchester, captain of the Kansas Hunters and known hockey bachelor, is asking to be his boyfriend. Apparently, his lack of an answer scares Dean to the point that Dean’s face is full of concern.

“Cas? Cas? Hey, you still there?”

“Umm, yes.” That’s all Castiel manages to say. He takes a few deep breaths, hoping to quickly assuage the worry lines forming on Dean’s brow. “I would like that, Dean.”

Castiel keeps finding himself pleasantly surprised by just how much brighter Dean’s smile can get, and this time is no exception. He honestly isn’t sure how he got so lucky that a man like Dean Winchester apparently likes him as much as he does.

“Well, I guess that makes it official then. We’re, uh, boyfriends I guess.” It sounds like such a foreign thing, but Castiel smiles, feeling happier inside than he has in a long time, and that includes when he’d heard that he’d won bronze at the Winter Olympics. Dean drops his fork and pins him with a look that has the blood in Castiel’s head rushing south.

“Think all the foods got me feeling a little energetic,” Dean mutters as he stands up from the table. “Know any ways to burn off a little steam?”

“I can think of one way,” Castiel answers as he stands up too.

Dean meets him as he does and Castiel feels Dean’s hand slip just underneath the elastic band of his boxers and lets himself be pulled forward until he’s flush against Dean.

“Are you sure we should be doing this? Don’t you have practice today?” Castiel asks, completely unconcerned about the fact that it’s well past time for his morning workouts now.

“Nah. Just conditioning and physical check-ups after the game. Figure I can skip it and get another type of conditioning with you.”

Castiel raises and eyebrow before rolling his eyes. “You didn’t just make that joke, did you?”

Dean’s grinning and laughing after a moment of being pinned under Castiel’s I-can’t-believe-you-said-that expression. “Is that a deal breaker for more sex?” Dean laughs.

Castiel doesn’t shy away this time though and instead gives into the urge buried inside him and leans forward, wrapping his hand around the back of Dean’s head and crushing their lips together. Dean leans into it and seems content to let Castiel take over.

When Castiel pulls away, Dean’s left grinning with red, glistening lips.

“I’m gonna take that as a no,” Dean laughs. “Wanna take this back to the bedroom? Kinda got a lot of things I wanna do to my boyfriend now.”

“Lead the way,” Castiel urges.

Castiel smiles as Dean turns and walks towards the bedroom, putting an extra sway in his hips to tease him. He figures Meg might be mad at him for missing morning workouts now, but she’ll live. He’s got a boyfriend and that’s what matters most right now. Besides, he can’t turn down a man with an ass like Dean Winchester’s.

 **◇** **◇** **◇ ◇ ◇ ◇**

 

“I still can’t believe you’re banging Dean Winchester,” Meg snickers as she skates a circle around Castiel. It’s only been a couple of weeks since Dean and Castiel made their relationship official, and outside of Meg, Benny, Dean’s brother Sam, and Bobby no one knows. Dean asked to keep things quiet just to not make headlines on the news, especially right before the season starts, which is the only reason he told Bobby.

According to Dean, Bobby’s response was ‘ _bout damn time, idjit’_.

“I wish you wouldn’t say that so loudly,” Castiel grumbles, watching as Meg shrugs as she turns continues skating around him. He’s beginning to regret telling her, if not for the constant teasing than for the countless questions about his and Dean’s sex life.

But outside of them officially dating, nothing’s really changed since the first time Dean had invited him out for lunch. When Castiel and Meg finish practice, he and Dean and sometimes the others all go to lunch, and sometimes when it’s just them, they fool around like horny teenagers in Dean’s Impala or back in Castiel’s apartment.

It’s safer that way. Dean doesn’t get a lot of paparazzi followers, but just enough that he doesn’t risk taking Castiel back to his home.

“Oh, that’s right. You’re his dirty little secret.”

Castiel narrows his eyes. “I am not a dirty little secret.”

Meg rolls her eyes. “I’m joking, Clarence. And here I thought you getting laid might take that stick out of your ass a bit.”

“My apologies for disappointing you,” Castiel remarks dryly.

“Speaking of… where is your dashing boyfriend?”

Castiel shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Dean hasn’t given up his occasional habit of sticking around to watch Castiel and Meg practice, and Castiel hasn’t given up his habit of coming in early to watch either. But this morning, Castiel noticed that Dean had been pulled aside by a short, portly man, whose entire appearance reeked of a general manager, before practice had been called. He hasn’t seen Dean leave or come back since.

Meg slides up next to him, but her attention is not on him, but somewhere else. “Speak of the devil.”

Castiel turns where Meg is looking and he sees Dean emerge from the back offices with Bobby and the man in the suit following him. Dean doesn’t seem angry, but Castiel notices an unreadable look on his face. Bobby and the suited man both don’t linger and leave, but Dean turns to Castiel and waves before jokingly cat-calling at Meg.

“Lookin’ good, Meg,” Dean compliments with a wink. Meg returns the favor by shooting him the bird. If there’s one thing Meg hates the most when it comes to ice skating, it’s the costumes she has to wear while performing.

Castiel skates over to entrance where Dean meets him, smiling now as he leans on the barrier to the rink.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel greets.

“Hey, Cas.” Castiel can hear it in Dean’s voice. Something is off. He’s not sure what it is, but even Dean’s outward, positive demeanor can’t hide it. “How’s the routine?”

“Coming along well enough that Uriel only felt the need to belittle us about three times before leaving,” Castiel answers with a chuckle.

Dean whistles. “Damn. That is something. So, are we thinking first place in the next competition?”

Castiel rolls his eyes but continues grinning. “Hardly. I think Uriel is just going soft.”

Dean scoffs. “Not exactly words I thought I’d ever hear. That’s like me saying Bobby ain’t gonna scream at me ever again.”

“Speaking of Bobby, who is the man that you and Bobby were with? He seemed to make you tense,” Castiel redirects as he thinks about Dean’s expression before he walked in.

Dean’s smile falters a bit, and Castiel gets a sinking feeling.

“That was our general manager. Fergus Crowley, or just Crowley. You probably won’t be surprised to know that he’s a total dick.”

“Hardly,” Castiel snickers. “What did he want? I don’t recall ever seeing him here in the time that you’ve all been here.”

“Yeah, he’s not exactly a social butterfly. To tell you the truth, I don’t even think he likes hockey. Think he just sees it as a cash cow. But, uh, that aside, he came over to talk to us about the new practice facility.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow. “How is that progressing?”

Dean sighs and finally lets his smile fall. “Really good apparently. Crowley told us that the new place is ready already. He wants us to move back over there at the end of the week. Wants us to get used to the new place before the season officially starts up and we’re on the road all the time. So, we’ll be out of your hair in a couple of days.”

It’s only when Dean tells him the news that he realizes that it’s been a little under three months since Dean and the Hunters stumbled into his life. He’s not sure what to feel at the thought of Dean no longer being here every day, so he just half-smiles.

“That’s good to hear, Dean. About the practice facility that is. Not about all the traveling.” Castiel’s not convinced that his words came out right at all, especially with the way Dean is suspiciously staring at him.  

“Yeah, well, Crowley bitched at the construction crew nonstop and kept’em working practically round the clock. Probably did whatever the hell it took to get Crowley off their backs. Hell, I’d do the same too.” Dean scratches the back of his neck nervously. “But yeah, guess we’ll finally give you and Meg your space back.”

“It seems that way. It will be different without you all here.”

“Yeah. Season starts up in a couple of weeks and then I’ll be traveling almost non-stop till probably April unless we make play-offs.”

Neither of them speaks after that. Castiel is at a loss for words because he’s not sure what words there are to say. Maybe it’s loving the idea of having a boyfriend that made him so blind, but reality comes crashing down on him in the form of Dean’s words.

Dean and the Hunters are moving back to the practice facility, and Castiel probably won’t be seeing Dean every day anymore.

In some ways, it’s almost like a storm had blown in and is finally moving out of the area. He had a tiny slice of Dean here with him, and it lulled him into an almost sense of normalcy and stability. Now, Dean will be traveling non-stop for games and Castiel will be training here with Meg until they too have competitions that take them all out of the country.

“So… you wanna grab lunch? Maybe celebrate you get your rink back at your place?” Dean asks, grinning as if trying to change the subject.

Castiel considers Dean’s request hard, but maybe it’s the sudden uncertainty that makes him apprehensive. Before he knows it, he’s shaking his head, but with a small smile.

“Actually, Meg and I should probably run our routine again to finish preparing for our upcoming competition. Raincheck?”

Dean seems taken back by Castiel turning him down but hides it with a positive look.

“Yeah, I get it. I’ll see ya tomorrow?”

Castiel nods. “Yes, tomorrow.” Castiel watches as Dean looks around and immediately knows that Dean is looking around to see if anyone is paying attention. When Dean turns back to Castiel he leans forward and kisses him, a quick peck on the lips, and even with its brevity it’s more than enough for Castiel.

“See ya tomorrow, Cas.” Dean walks off with a wave, and Castiel ignores the disappointment he’s positive he can hear in Dean’s voice and watches as Dean leaves. It’s only when Dean’s fully out of the building that he hears Meg skid to a stop behind him.

“So, wanna tell me what that was about?” she questions.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Castiel rebuffs.

Meg rolls her eyes. “Don’t play dumb, Clarence. I have eyes, ears, and a brain and I clearly just saw you turn down Dean-O after he told you he and his team were hitting the road back to their own place. So, you can either tell me what the hell is going on, or I can text Gabriel the good news about your new boyfriend and you know how that will go.”

Castiel narrows his eyes, knowing full well he’s cornered. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me,” Meg counters.

They glare at one another, but it takes a surprisingly short amount of time for Castiel to relent and huff.

“I just don’t know if I thought this whole thing with Dean out all the way through.”

“What’s to think about? He’s hot, he’s rich, you like him, he likes you. Sounds like a perfect match to me,” Meg shrugs.

“It’s not that. It’s just, Dean and I won’t be together much. When the Hunters leave, I’ll hardly see Dean at all. Our paths never even crossed until now. What happens when he’s on the road all the time and then I’m on the road all the time? Am I even cut out for this?”

Meg rolls her eyes. “Jesus, Clarence. Are we really doing this again? Will you please pull your head out of your ass already?” Castiel grumbles, but Meg doesn’t back down. “Are you really that determined to sabotage any relationship, much less, your relationship with Dean just because you can’t see him every day? The guy stares you like you hung the stars in the sky and all the romantic bullshit.”

Castiel has no answer and simply shrugs again. He’s not sure where the doubt comes from, but he can’t help it. Maybe it’s because he’s been spoiled and has had Dean here just about every day and now who knows when he’ll have time to see Dean.

“I’m not sabotaging it. I’m just being realistic.”

“I give up. You go deal with your feelings at home or somewhere. I am going to get out of this stupid skirt and then take a long nap. Hopefully, you’ll be back to your senses by our afternoon training session.”

Meg pulls herself off the rink and Castiel simply watches. Meg’s casual but stern warning is all it takes for Castiel to wonder if he’s overreacting. But then again, he’s still not sure what he’s doing. He pulls himself up off the rink and makes his way to his bag where he removes his skates and settles for a quiet day at home to just sit and think.

He doesn’t sabotage all his relationships… does he?

He doesn’t get much time to think about it before a buzzing from his phone hidden somewhere in his bag distracts him. He fully expects it to be Dean or even Meg. What he’s not expecting is to see a call from Balthazar.

“Balthazar?” Castiel answers.

“Well hello to you too, stranger. You can’t pick up the phone and call or text anymore?” Balthazar snipes.

Castiel rolls his eyes. “I could say the same for you. And drunk texts along with nudes don’t count either.”

“You’re such a killjoy. Anywho, I’m in town next week to meet with that stiff we call a skating coach and I was hoping you’d be free for brunch tomorrow.”

Somehow an invitation to brunch isn’t what Castiel was expecting nor is it something he’s sure he should even consider. He dwells on Balthazar’s request but can hear irritated breaths on the other end of the line.

“Sure. That sounds fine.”

“Brilliant! I’ll text you the details sometime this weekend when I’m in town.” Before Castiel can even reply the line goes dead. While he does enjoy Balthazar’s company, he’s not sure if brunch, especially with an ex-friend with benefits, is a good idea in his current state of mind.

But he’s committed, and he’s not one to go back on his word.

 **◇** **◇** **◇ ◇ ◇ ◇**

 

“I’m fine, Dean,” Castiel assures as he sits in his rundown pickup outside some brunch place in town. Leave it to Balthazar to pick a place Castiel has never known to exist in the town he lives in.

“You sure, Cas? You’ve seemed kinda off since last week. Is it about the whole moving  thing?” Dean asks, his concerned voice adding to Cas’ guilt for holding back what’s been eating away at him.

It’s been a little over a week and a half since the Hunters moved out and the time Castiel’s spent with Dean has already seen a nosedive. Since they’ve left, Castiel has only seen Dean once for lunch and they’ve only spent the night together twice. Each time, Dean’s barely able to stick around for breakfast before he has to book it back to their new practice facility for morning training. Now, Dean’s on the road for his next two exhibition games and the only time Dean manages to see him is when Dean facetimes back at his hotel room.

Maybe Castiel overestimated what to expect for this relationship with Dean, but even then, the small things he gets, the small smiles or Dean laughing at the little things he does make it all that much harder to give up.

“Dean, I assure you, I’m fine. I’ve just been exhausted with all the training.”

“Alright, if you say so. Just want you to know that it sucks being up here without ya. Much rather have you as a roommate than Benny,” Dean jokes.

Castiel chuckles at that. “I think Benny’s the perfect roommate for you. I don’t think you’d get much sleep if I were there.”

Dean snorts. “Yeah, well, sacrifices must be made.” Castiel hears some yelling in the background that sounds distinctly like Bobby and knows that Dean must be getting chastised. “Damn, that’s Bobby. I gotta go, but, uh, last chance. You sure you’re alright, Cas?”

“Positive. You just go win your games and I’ll be cheering you on from over here.”

“We’ll take all the cheering we can get. I’ll call you when I get back to the hotel room. Might be able to get Benny out of the place long enough for us to do a little video chat if you’re down?” Dean mutters suggestively.

“I’ll be willing to combat my technological inexperience for that. I’ll wait for your call,” Castiel promises.

“I’ll see ya soon, Cas,” Dean says, Castiel hearing the fondness in his voice even if Dean’s hundreds of miles away in New York.

“Goodbye, Dean.”

When the line goes dead, Castiel leans back in his seat and sighs. Maybe he’s not as cut out for the miles of distance as he’d thought. Suddenly, is reminded that Balthazar is inside waiting for him, and no doubt, talking badly about Cas to whomever is willing to  listen. In scrambling to get out of his truck, he realizes that he hasn’t even unbuckled his seatbelt, a further reminder of how Dean can make him just drop everything.

But he’s out into the gray, late morning day walking into a little brunch place sandwiched between a bunch of little boutiques that make up the downtown area. The place is busy when he walks inside, people filling almost every table and the waitstaff hectically weaving in between tables and customers with plates of food and drinks. The aroma of fresh pancakes and waffles is immediately and heavenly, the annoyed look of Balthazar seated at a table across the way is not.

Castiel takes a deep breath and centers himself before making his way over. He loves Balthazar to death, but he knows to expect an earful from him.

“It’s about bloody time,” Balthazar mutters. “I was seriously beginning to wonder if I was being stood up, and you know how I feel about being stood up.”

“I would never stand you up, Balthazar. I was simply on the phone with someone.”

Balthazar’s interest is piqued already if the sudden eyebrow raise is any indication. “Oh, a phone call. And who is so important that you’d be intentionally late to lunch with me?”

Balthazar grins before sipping on his mimosa, and Castiel sighs, knowing full well that Balthazar already knows who it is. If there’s anyone else who would know it would be Balthazar, probably from talking to Meg.

“Do I need to even say it?” Castiel asks.

Balthazar hums and shrugs. “Not really. Our darling Margery didn’t mind telling me how you’ve been acting lately over Dean Winchester. I must say, good on you Cassie for nabbing Dean Winchester of all people.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Thank you, Balthazar.”

A waitress walks up to their table and takes Castiel’s drink order before vanishing into the throng of people again.

“Now we need to talk about your utterly idiotic attempt to sabotage your relationship with him already,” Balthazar charges.

“I’m not talking with you about this. It’s just… awkward talking to my ex and, well, friend with benefits, about my current relationship.”

Balthazar scoffs. “And why is that? Besides Meg, I’m the person who knows you best. Just because I’ve seen you naked… well, a lot, doesn’t negate that I know that you’re already setting yourself up on the path to destroy your relationship with Dean just like you did us.”

Castiel struggles to find words to say to that, and Balthazar sits back smug. Castiel is partially saved by the timely arrival of the waitress with his drink and her task to take their orders. Still, there’s nothing he can say to counter Balthazar’s point. Castiel is the one who ruined their relationship, and if Balthazar is right, he’s on track to ruin another relationship.

“Alright, so maybe that was a bit harsh,” Balthazar finally starts again. “But c’mon, Cassie. You look like hell. Worry lines are not a good look on you, especially for a professional figure skater.”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

“Of course, you have. That’s your problem, Cassie. You think too much.”   

Balthazar, two. Castiel, zero.

“And how do you suppose I fix this problem?”

Balthazar finishes his mimosa, letting out a contented sigh when he puts the glass down. “These mimosas are to die for. You should really consider one.” Castiel stares down at his glass of water with lemon and shakes his head grinning. “You need to just live in the moment, Cassie. I don’t know this Dean Winchester besides always seeing him in those ‘top hottest athletes’ articles I read when I’m bored at the hair or nail salon, but from what Meg tells me, he’s quite smitten with you. Unless I’m missing something?”

And it’s true. Dean has been nothing but smitten and kind to him since the moment they met, and even now, when Dean has several other things to be worried about, he still finds time to call and check on him.

“No, that’s it. Dean is a wonderful man,” Castiel agrees.

“So, why in the bloody hell do you look like that? You should be practically screaming to the world that you’re in love with a hot hockey player.”

Castiel sighs and shakes his head. “It’s just… what if we’re in over our heads. Dean’s a professional athlete and travels. It was the reason we didn’t work out, Balthazar.”

Balthazar rolls his eyes. “No, the reason we didn’t work out was because you and I want two very different things. You want stability and I want fun. Dean, from what Meg tells me, seems to enjoy the idea of someone to come home to. Sounds like he should be right up your alley.”

Castiel reflects on Balthazar’s words and lets out a heavy breath before turning up to Balthazar. “Do you think I’m overthinking this?”

“Yes. That’s what you do, Cassie. You need to shut your brain off for once. Life isn’t like a skating routine. You don’t have to think and plan every move and every possible outcome. You just need to live in the moment. Dean Winchester likes you. You’re dating. Be happy and enjoy it.”

Balthazar’s words hit him right in the chest, and Castiel, after a moment of quiet reflection, finds himself smiling a bit.

“How did you of all people become so wise?”

“I am a well-traveled individual. I have much experience, especially in the way of figuring out how your weird, complex brain works. Now, my fee is you ordering me another one of these fantastic mimosas, oh, and ice cream. You owe me that too.”

Castiel rolls his eyes, but he knows it’s the least he can do. Balthazar is right. He trusts Dean, and Dean seems to trust him. They have a good thing, and Castiel won’t be the one to jeopardize what he’s worked so hard to have.

 **◇** **◇** **◇ ◇ ◇ ◇**

 

Castiel’s phone blares loudly on his nightstand, and he grumbles as he blindly feels around for it until he successful finds the offending device. When he cracks his eyes open he sees Dean calling, a picture of him giving a thumbs-up with a goofy smile as the background.

It’s the only reason Castiel hits the answer button even though it’s only ten in the morning on his one day off that he’s _officially_ allowed to sleep-in.

“You should know by now that I’m not a morning person, Dean,” Cas gravels into his phone, closing his eyes as if to drift back to sleep.

Dean laughs on the other end. “I know, but I have a surprise for you.”

“Surprise?” He doesn’t mean to sound as shocked as he is, but given Dean is supposed to be tied up in training and preparing to travel to California for the last of their pre-season games, so he’s not sure what Dean’s even talking about.

“Yeah, Cas. A surprise. I wouldn’t have woken you up for nothing.”

Castiel huffs as he begrudgingly turns over on his back and yawns. “Alright. What is this surprise of yours?”

“It’s not there. I need you to get ready and come down to the rink. Don’t need to wear anything fancy, just, uh, make sure you bring your skates?”

“Dean. It’s my day off. The last thing I want to do is skate. And aren’t you supposed to be practicing and on your way to Anaheim?”

“Maybe. You gotta come down to the rink and find out.”

Castiel sighs, knowing full well he’s already defeated. He can’t rightfully say no to Dean, especially when he’s hardly seen him and hardly will in the future.

“Fine,” Castiel relents. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be there.”

“Promise you won’t regret it,” Dean says, doing a poor job of hiding his elation that he agreed to come.

“I hope I won’t.” Castiel finds himself smiling already, ignoring that small part of him that wants to be angry that he has to do things on his day off. But then his conversation with Balthazar hasn’t left him since they met for brunch the other day. Dean’s determined to make this relationship work, and Castiel can’t be the one to sabotage it. After all, he likes Dean. _A lot_.  

The phone line clicks dead and Castiel inhales a deep breath of morning air before forcing himself out of bed. He debates showering, but he settles for just brushing his teeth and throwing on some deodorant. Dean said he doesn’t need to get all dressed up, so why bother. If it’s his day off, he’d prefer to lounge around as much as he can anyways.

He settles on a sweater and a pair of jeans before grabbing his keys and heading out the door towards the rink. Traffic going towards the rink is light and Castiel questions just what’s  going on when he sees that there are no cars parked outside the rink.

Except for one of course.

A ’67 Chevy Impala.

Castiel rolls his eyes but smiles as he gets out of his pickup and makes his way inside but he freezes the minute he steps inside. From where he stands he can see a lone figure on the ice gliding back and forth across the rink. He instinctively knows it’s Dean, but the way he moves is unlike what he’s seen from Dean on the rink during all their practices or during a game.

In some ways, he feels like he’s watching Dean performing a routine not unlike his. All that’s missing is the music. He’s content to just stand and watch Dean, but he makes his presence known, walking down to the barrier separating the rink. Dean seems lost in his own world skating and turning, almost as if preparing to jump or spin but stopping himself short of it.

Up close, Castiel feels shameful for feeling like he’s watching a god in his natural habitat, but it’s just been that long since he’s seen Dean. There’s just something majestic about the way Dean looks and moves.

“That looks a little too graceful to be a hockey player. Are you sure that’s what you want to do for the rest of your life?”

Dean comes to a stop and flashes Castiel a bright smile. There’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Castiel has to turn away before the sight does things to him that are too early to be happening.

“If I said yes, would you give me free skating lessons?” Dean teases as he skates over to him.

“Depends. Are you going to be my competition one day?”

“No promises.” Dean winks and Castiel can feel himself grinning harder now.

“What is all this, Dean?”

There’s still no one to be found here besides the two of them, but everything seems to be up and running. Morning skating on Sundays, especially here, is fairly popular which helped make today one of his reasons for taking Sundays off.

“To tell you the truth, Cas, I don’t really know. I just figured you and I both like skating, so I really wanted to spend what time I had here with you. So, I bought out the rink for a few hours, and we could just skate alone.”

“Dean, you really didn’t have to do that. I know how busy you are with the season starting up,” Castiel says, smiling fondly as he watches Dean scratches at the back of his neck nervously.

“Yeah, well, the guys may not be all that happy that I’m ditchin’ practice today and I know Bobby’s gonna blow my fucking ears off for it. But, I don’t care. I wanna spend today with you.”

“Dean.” It’s all Castiel can get out as the words struggle to come to mind, unlike the smile and butterflies in his stomach that have blossomed in full.

“C’mon, get your skates on and come join me,” Dean chuckles.

Castiel rolls his eyes but obliges and shucks off his shoes for his practice skates before getting on the ice. For a moment he and Dean just stand there, but eventually Dean moves to him and takes his hand.

“Couple of warm-up laps around the rink?”

Castiel smirks. “I didn’t take you for the sentimental type.”

“I can be if I’ve got the right person with me.” Dean winks. Dean starts to skate and Castiel moves with him, and together they circle the rink, doing so silently for a few moments.

“Sorry I’ve been so absent lately,” Dean finally says, almost quietly as if he’s embarrassed to admit it.

Castiel turns a perplexed look up at Dean and raises an eyebrow. “You have nothing to apologize about. It’s your job, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, still doesn’t make me feel good, you know?”

Castiel shakes his head. “I’m… not sure that I do, Dean.”

Dean sighs and shrugs. “You’re different, Cas. It’s just… other people I’ve dated or slept with… I don’t feel bad about leaving them. I mean, I was immature and occasionally kind of a dick. But, for some reason, I feel guilty leaving you, Cas. I just want to spend more time with you, getting to know everything about you.”

“I would like that too, Dean. But we are both  busy. You have hockey and I have my competitions.”

“I know, but doesn’t change how I feel about you, Cas.” When Dean smiles Castiel doesn’t feel a sense of foreboding like he’s expecting. Instead, Dean’s smile seems to elicit a more positive feeling inside of him. Maybe something like hope. “Cas… I want us to work. I know I’m gonna be traveling a lot and you’re gonna be too. But, I’m determined Cas. I want this to work cause I like you a lot.”

Castiel laughs quietly to himself as he and Dean continue around the rink again.

“I like you a lot too, Dean, which is why I want to tell you that I had doubts about us,” Castiel says.

His honesty is rewarded with a shocked, frightened look from Dean. He feels Dean squeeze his hand tighter, but Castiel doesn’t lose his grin.

“What doubts? Is there something I could be doin’ better, Cas? What do you need from me?” Dean questions almost frantic.

Castiel shakes his head. “Nothing, Dean. My doubts are my own fault.” Castiel inhales deeply as he mentally prepares himself to unload his emotional baggage. “I… am not good with relationships. For so long, I was unsure of what I wanted especially after I began dating Balthazar.”

“Balthazar? I remember him from the Olympics too. He’s the other figure skater guy, right? The one who won bronze?” Dean interjects.

“Yes, that’s him. We both met through Uriel. Uriel is also his coach. We started dating not too long afterwards. The problem was that I was never sure what I wanted… I became distant and withdrew from Balthazar until we broke up. Since that moment, I had gone on dates with others, but I always found myself doing the same. I would push them away. I thought something was wrong with me. As if I was incapable of relationships.”

“But,” Dean follows up.

Castiel turns up to him. “I met you.” Dean’s smile starts to return after that. “You were so welcoming to me even when I was rude to you on your first day in our rink. I kept denying there was anything between us until you invited me to lunch. When you opened up to me about your family, your dad, Sam, Jo… all of them, that’s when I realized that you were different than the rest.”

Dean chuckles. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

Castiel comes to a stop and holds Dean’s hand tight, forcing him to stop as well.

“It is.” Castiel answers. He looks Dean directly in his glimmering and hopeful green eyes. “Dean, I like you a lot. I know that I’ll make mistakes, and won’t be a good boyfriend sometimes, and it’ll be hard some days not being able to see you as much as I want. But… I see a future for us. I… want that for us.”

Dean’s beaming again and looks to be on the verge of laughter, which Castiel isn’t sure how to take.

“Damn, Cas. Nearly scared me half to death before killing me with all that sappy, romantic shit,” Dean laughs. Castiel is about to respond when Dean leans into him, to kiss him. His lips are soft and plump and every bit as cold as Castiel expects, but against his lips they create a warm friction.

Time almost seems to stop around them, but then Castiel is reminded that they’re alone which is just as fine. When Dean pulls back from him, he’s grinning almost like a giddy child.

“I can’t believe I get to do that whenever I want now,” Dean jokes.

Castiel rolls his eyes and shakes his head while smiling. “For now. Eventually, you’ll have to earn those kisses.”

“You wouldn’t?” Dean challenges.

Castiel smirks. “I’m a competitive figure skater, Dean. I’m all about earning the prize.”

Dean chuckles. “Alright. Fair enough. Speaking of… since we got the whole rink to ourselves for a few hours, think I can get some figure skating lessons?”

Castiel raises an eyebrow suspiciously, but quickly notices that behind Dean’s smile is a man who’s truly serious.

“You really want to learn?” Castiel inquires.

“Course I do. I got the world’s best, and hottest, teacher with me, and no one to see me fall on my ass a million times, so why not fulfill my childhood dream?” Castiel feels himself blushing, but also grinning. Curse Dean Winchester and his uncanny ability to compliment someone into near submission. Dean moves in closer to him, holding him in an almost hug. “Maybe afterwards, we can go back to your place and you can kiss all my boo-boos and make’em better?”

Castiel rolls his eyes but laughs. “You have such a way with words.”

Dean kisses Castiel on the lips again. “Better get used to it cause you’re gonna be stuck with _this_ for a long damn time.”

It’s Castiel who leans in to kiss Dean this time, catching the hockey player off-guard.

“I think I can handle a long damn time with you.”


End file.
